Synthetic Tales of the Sole Survivor
by EssentiallyRei
Summary: After an attack on the Railroad by the Brotherhood of Steel (Nora's former faction), she is faced with the puzzle of rebuilding the Railroad with Deacon. The biggest challenge, however, comes when she decides to fulfill a promise she made to the synth Glory. She decides the best way of fulfilling that promise: a takeover of the Institute. With X6-88 by her side, can she succeed?
1. Future of the Commonwealth

***WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD*** This story will contain many, many spoilers. So please do not read until you've played all the way through Fallout 4.

 **SYNOPSIS:** Nora is the Sole Survivor. She's made her way across the Commonwealth to find her son. And now that she's found him, she finds herself successor to Director of the Institute. She's already betrayed the Brotherhood of Steel for her son. Will she also eliminate the Railroad for him?

* * *

 **Future of the Commonwealth**

"Ah, there you are," Shaun said as Nora approached him in his quarters. The old man was on his computer, probably writing a report or answering an internal inquiry. Nora couldn't help but look at the terminal from the corner of her eyes as she approached. Always the curious one she was; and she was sure she caught her own name and the Brotherhood of Steel somewhere in the text. Later she would have to hack into his terminal to read the entirety of it.

"You've met with the Directorate?" Shaun asked when Nora was standing right next to him. He rotated his chair in Nora's direction to give her his full attention. "I assume they made their intentions known. It was difficult for them to reach the decision to engage in open hostility. What about you? Do you agree with their decision?"

The truth was that Nora did not agree with the Directorate's decision to engage in battle with the Brotherhood of Steel, though she had not expressed her disagreement at the meeting. "How long has this been coming?" she asked her son, purposely avoiding answering his question. "When did they decide on this course of action?"

"The arrival of the Brotherhood's airship was the final straw, really. There's too much at stake. We… You... can't afford to lose it all," he said grimly.

Nora dropped her head, but shortly nodded in agreement.

"You know, Mother, it's no secret that you worked with the Railroad in order to first reach the institute," he so suddenly changed the subject. "The depth of your involvement with them has been called into question, repeatedly. I'm sure you can guess by whom. The question is: where do you stand with them now? Do you count them amongst your allies?"

"I can't lie," Nora said softly but proudly. "They are allies."

"Well, I appreciate your honesty," Shaun replied with perhaps understanding. "I won't ask for details. I'm sure I don't want to know. But these people, with their twisted ideology… They seek to undermine everything the Institute stands for. Surely you can see that."

"They're not a threat," Nora tried assuring him. She had friends in the Railroad. Deacon. Glory. Tinker Tom. Hell, Nora didn't even mind Doctor Carrington's harsh demeanor. She considered herself on good terms with the good man. And Desdemona… Nora didn't know much about the woman, but it would make Nora sick to her stomach if any harm came to the Railroad's leader.

"I've been dealing with them far longer than you have," Shaun said so defensively that it surprised Nora. "They have slowed the Institute's work and progress many times in the past. They _are_ a threat. Surely you see that you can no longer work with them," he stubbornly insisted, which made Nora believe there was more bitterness—more of a personal reason for Shaun to want the Railroad's elimination—than she had thought. "The time has come to put an end to them," he demanded. "For our sake. For our future. I'm afraid this is an order, Mother. The Railroad leadership needs to be eliminated." He turned away to his computer and insensitively expressed. "I expect a report when it's done."

It was supposed to be the end of the conversation, Nora knew. Shaun expected results; he always expected results and the results had to be in his favor. "Shaun… I have friends among the Railroad," she concernedly told him.

He sighed—the old man sighed, but did not turn to his mother. "Just as, I'm sure, you had friends among the Brotherhood of Steel," he tiredly replied. "But you chose the Institute, did you not? We are your future. We are your family." He pinched his brow. "We are running out of time," he said like a mantra. "The Railroad must be dealt with, and you are the best candidate to do the job. I'm sorry, Mother. I know it will likely be difficult for you." He fell silent before he added, "I am tired. We will speak again when the Railroad has been taken care of. If you do not return, then I will at least know why."

Nora walked out of the room with natural grace, but when she was out of Shaun's sight, she pulled her hair in frustration. Strands now stuck up from the top of her head and bun. So badly, Nora wanted to punch something. Or shoot something. She didn't know the difference anymore. Violence now seemed a part of her. And that's what Shaun was using her for. Violence.

How could he be so insensitive? Would it be different if she was the Director and Shaun was the one who was being asked to murder friends? A mother asking her son. Would he do something like that for her?

No, Shaun obviously wouldn't go play soldier for the Institute. Until recently, Shaun had never been outside the Institute. Had Shaun ever even seen someone die at his own hands?

Shaun didn't understand what he was asking. It was that plain and simple. He was a selfish, spoiled, old man. And all Nora could think of to that end was that if she had raised him, he never would have turned out this way. But he _had_ turned out this way.

The future in which Nora had dreamed of had been stolen from her. Nate and Shaun had been stolen from her. The strange turn of events was that Shaun had survived.

As she depleted a few laser cells on the targets in Advanced Systems, Nora realized that Shaun, no matter how selfish he was, was still her son. What did she have left, if she was not going to help achieve her son's goals? In the end, wasn't that every mother's dream? To see their children achieve their hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

Nora put the laser rifle she had been "testing" down. When she walked away from shooting range, X6-88 was standing, awaiting her attention. "Father has asked me to accompany you to the Railroad's headquarters. He believes it will make the task easier for you."

"No," Nora immediately told him, brushing past the stiff synth. The scientists working around them had momentarily stopped and stared, so she stopped in her tracks. Turning back to X6-88, she politely told him, "We never did have that conversation you wanted to have. How about you tag along and then we can talk."

"Alright," he agreed.

He followed her to the relay room; they were both silent. They worked better together, that way. Whenever she went into the Commonwealth with X6-88, Nora felt as if she was a sneaky assassin. X6-88 would go in with guns blazing, and she would crouch down and pick targets off from a distance.

"X6," Nora spoke before hitting the relay button. "Before… the last time we talked, you mentioned I would be proud of Father if I knew all that he'd done and accomplished."

"Yes," he confirmed the statement.

The countdown for the transport started and Nora walked with X6-88 onto the relay pad. " _I am_ proud of him," she told X6-88. "But… " She did not finish before letting the countdown finish. There was the expected flash and then thunder of the transport; her entire body instantaneously ripped from one place to another. Red spots and light blinded her eyes, as they always did after transporting, until a few seconds after standing still. When Nora's sight adjusted, it was to the night of the Commonwealth.

She turned to where X6-88 had been transported alongside her. He stood, carelessly wearing his sunglasses in the dark, waiting for Nora. "A mother doesn't need her son's approval in order to be proud of him." Now staring at the Courser, Nora was trying to decide if he would understand. He was, after all, programmed to be loyal to the Institute.

"Are you going to betray the Institute?" X6-88 asked with no inflection.

"I cannot betray my son," Nora replied with hurt in her voice. "Just as you are programmed to be loyal to the Institute, I am inherently programmed to protect my son and his interests. And even in knowing that I am being used, X6, just as you are being used, because of our programming, I will not destroy what my son has worked to accomplish."

"That is good to hear, Ma'am," he said, showing some unexpected form of relief.

"I need your help, X6," Nora now told him.

"That is why I am here," he responded.

"You find the Commonwealth so disgusting," she went on, ignoring his acknowledgement. "I do not. Because I have something that Shaun does not have. I have hope, X6. Hope. It's the very same hope that led me to Shaun. Hope that I would find him. Hope for a better future. I've asked myself what I would have left if I did betray the Institute. And I realized. I realized that I would have the same thing I had when I didn't even know if Shaun was alive. Hope. Hope for the Commonwealth. More significantly, I have hope for the Institute, too. I really do believe the Institute is the future. And if it's not, then I will make it the future. I want—"

"Hold that thought," X6 interrupted, doing the complete unexpected. "I have something I need to say."

"Go on," Nora encouraged him.

"I'll just lay it out there. I look up to you. All my life, I've always looked up to Father. You already know this. What you didn't know is I was a lot less sure about you. I followed your orders because I had to, but you seemed… I don't know, unprepared. You looked lost and confused, maybe even scared. I didn't think you could handle this life and the work I do. I figured you'd just slow me down or get in my way."

Nora giggled. "Funny, I thought the same thing about you."

"Sarcasm noted," he responded, before continuing. "If I've learned anything since we've been running together, it's this: Holy Shit, was I wrong about you. You're as tough and determined as anyone I've met. Maybe more. Given all the things that have happened to you, and everything you've lost, that's impressive. What I mean is, you have a sort of focus… a will. I think you could accomplish anything that you set your mind to. I'm not only sure that you can handle the task of running of the Institute—I think you'll be the best leader we've ever had."

"I… Wow," Nora was stunned. She had never expected to hear X6-88 say anything that would encourage her to make the decision she was about ready to make. "I don't know what to say, X6."

"A response is not necessary," he put plainly. "Now, please continue with what you were saying before I so rudely interrupted."

"Well, since you just lay it out there, I guess I will too," Nora resumed. "Father doesn't understand the Commonwealth as I do. He's lived within the Institute all his life. I know what the Commonwealth was like before the war, and I've dragged my ass through what is now. So as Director, I'm not going to make the same decisions as Father would for the Institute. Though I am proud of what he's done—I truly am—I am not Father. I am… me. I have my own ideas of what's good for the Institute. And I understand the amount of good the Institute could do if it didn't stay so isolated. Do you understand, X6?"

"Ma'am, are you suggesting opening up the Institute to the surface dwellers? To the Commonwealth filth?

"Not as direct as to allowing anyone to walk into the the Institute, X6," Nora conveyed. "That would be unwise," she phrased it as if she were a robot.

"Was that a hint of sarcasm?" he inquired.

"No, not sarcasm." Nora smiled. "Whenever I have a conversation with you, I feel the need to speak more… I don't know… robotically? Because that's how you sound. I'm not making fun of you; I just want to be as cool and collected as you are. Because I admire you too, X6."

"This conversation has gotten weird," he openly noted without flinching.

"Welcome to being my friend," Nora commented, patting him on the shoulder.

"Friend," he repeated.

"Yes?" Nora answered to it as if it was a beckon.

"Nothing… Ma'am," he hesitated which was so unlike him.

"Very well," Nora said through a smile. "Let's talk work, then. This Railroad business, X6. I know I said you could tag along, but… I think I need to do this alone. No… I don't just think. I know I need to do this alone. It's just... I need to make this decision on my own. I hope you can understand."

"Nora," X6 called her by her name for the first time. "You never have to worry about whether I understand or not. I trust that you will make the right decision. I now know that any decision you make is for the good of Institute."

He did understand. And it made Nora so happy that she moved in and hugged him. "Thank you," she whispered. "I needed someone to listen. I needed someone to understand. The fact that it was you lets me know that I am making the right choices. So thank you."

"I am much more comfortable shooting people, Ma'am, than I am with this… hugging."

Nora laughed and pulled away. "Noted. You are armed and dangerous. And you don't like hugs."


	2. A Chip of Hope

**A Chip of Hope**

The Freedom Trail. Nora had walked it alone, in search of the Railroad. She had needed the Railroad's help—more specifically, Tinker Tom's hacking skills—to crack the encryption on the courser chip she'd recovered. The code from the chip was going to get her inside the Institute. For the Brotherhood of Steel.

Up to that point, Nora had done everything for the Brotherhood of Steel. She'd like to think it had been her respect for Paladin Danse that had pushed her that far. Yet, in retrospect, Nora knew it was more complicated than that.

Because Nora never expected to lose Codsworth when she faced Kellogg.

Upon exiting Vault 111, Codsworth had become Nora's support for finding Shaun somewhere out in the Commonwealth. It was unprecedented how the robot became her closest friend within the first few weeks of exploring the wasteland. Together, they shared memories of before the war, of Nate and baby Shaun, and of being a whole family despite how short-lived it had been. Codsworth became Nora's hope for some kind of happy future. Even if finding baby Shaun became hopeless, deep down, Nora was just happy she would have Codsworth. Codsworth was her family.

Then Nora learned about Kellogg. The man who shot her husband and kidnapped her son. It was time for justice to be done. She and Codsworth were going to find this mercenary named Kellogg and get answers. Maybe even vengeance. Sure enough, once they found the man, the bastard wouldn't go down without a fight.

* * *

It had all happened too fast. Kellogg turned invisible and Nora was jumped on by two synths, who knocked her down and started blasting lasers in her face. While she dealt with them, taking quite a few burns from their pistols, she heard Codsworth somewhere behind her using his saw, attacking the invisible Kellogg.

The synths were easily dealt with, with her 10mm pistol. She had become quite proficient at targeting the weak spots on of first gen synths with this particular pistol that she had nicknamed "The Bleeder".

Their limbs went flying, but she was still seeing red when she sat up. Nora grabbed for a stimpak on her belt. After stabbing herself in the arm with it, she tried standing as her eyesight cleared. She heard a bullet hit metal, an explosion, before a sizzle. Things were always exploding, but this explosion and sizzle was accompanied by Codsworth's saying, "Mum, critical systems failure. Powering da-ooow-n-n-na."

There was another explosion, shorter and more of a loud _pop_.

"Codsworth, don't die on me!" Nora screamed as she flung around looking for Kellogg, pistol in front of her. Bastard was still invisible. And though she could hear his footsteps, she couldn't tell where he was. "Where's my son, you asshole?" she called out, hoping he'd answer, so she'd know at least what direction to point her gun.

Instead, she received a bullet to the arm, but that was good enough. She pointed her pistol in the direction it came from and fired without actually aiming. As she emptied her clip with one hand, she grabbed for a frag grenade on her belt, pulled its pin, and threw it. She heard Kellogg scatter out of its way when it went off, and that's when Nora ran at him with another active grenade in hand.

"You're fucking crazy!" the now visible Kellogg hollered, because Nora didn't just run at him. She jumped on him, hoping it would knock him down. Because she had tossed the new grenade behind him and herself, hoping, he'd land on it, and she on him.

He did, and she did, as the grenade went off.

For seconds, all Nora could hear was ringing in her ears. Her body felt upside down and there was red everywhere again. Red had become a common color in her life.

"Codsworth," Nora had called out. Or screamed. She couldn't tell because she honestly couldn't even hear herself over the red, ringing world. Just the same, she got up. Nora got up and somehow found her way to the metallic heap lying on the floor.

"It's going to be okay, Codsworth. I can fix you." She ran her hands through the circuitry and components torn to bits in front of her. "I've been studying… robotics… for your sake… To keep you—" Nora started to cry. "Alive, Codsworth. I need you… to be alive."

She couldn't fix him. Nora had no idea how to fix him, or even if he could be fixed. All she could do was cry into her hands for several minutes as she sat on the floor next to Codsworth's useless shell. It wasn't until she heard footsteps that she stopped and just stared at the blood and tears on her hands.

"Oh, Blue!" Piper cried, crouching down to Nora. "Blue, you're hurt. We need to get you to a doctor."

"Closest one is probably Diamond City," Nick Valentine said behind them. "Well, well," he went on staring at the blood mass on the floor. "I think these body parts must be the remains of Kellogg. Good job, the bastard won't be hurting anybody else." Upon closer inspection of the remains, he said, "All this tech. He was barely even human."

Nora tried standing up despite Piper's complaining of, "Take it easy, Blue. You're not torn to shreds like that guy, but you look… awful. You're covered in—"

"Blood, I know," she interjected. "It's mostly Kellogg's." She ignored her own injuries as if they were nothing and walked over to Nick. "I'm sorry," she quietly told him. "I should have taken you up on your offer to help take down Kellogg. Because of me… Codsworth is… "

Nick's glowing synth eyes just stared at her. Then he sympathetically said back, "We'll take him back to Diamond City with us. See what we can salvage. If his memory is still intact, we might be able to save him. I wouldn't be able to say the same of you, if it was your body we found on the floor."

"Why did you come anyway," she wanted to know. "Curiosity?"

"I still feel like I owe you. You saved my behind back with Skinny Malone and Darla. It didn't feel right heading back to the office knowing you were going into danger," he offered as an explanation. So when I got back to Diamond City, I grabbed Piper. Told her we needed to be your back-up. She didn't hesitate; said this would make a great part II to your story in the paper."

"I might leave out the guts and gore," Piper chimed in. "I haven't decided yet."

* * *

Eventually Codsworth's memory—most of it—had been salvaged onto a single chip. Nora kept the chip—kept Codsworth—with her everywhere she went. The chip was more than a good luck charm to Nora. It was a reminder of the hope Codsworth left with her.

But, it was a hope that Nora lost for some time after losing Codsworth. Grief and depression quickly overtook what hope she had left.

It was the awe of the Prydwen above Boston that momentarily swept Nora's grief aside. And while she sat on the decision to access Kellogg's memories with Nick's help, Nora decided the Brotherhood of Steel might give her a fresh perspective. She was going to use her affiliation with Paladin Danse to distract herself from her other troubles—helping the Brotherhood would help get her mind off of her grief.

It worked; for a time. Danse helped convince Nora that the Brotherhood of Steel was what the Commonwealth needed. And she believed him, because she needed something to believe in after everything she'd lost.

But her belief in the Brotherhood of Steel had been a mistake. Her time among them was not something she liked to think about anymore. Especially after…

Well, at least Elder Maxson had kept his word and left Danse alone—let Danse live; even now, though Nora had betrayed the Brotherhood of Steel. It had not even been a hard decision to make: Shaun and the Institute? Or Maxson and the Brotherhood of Steel?

Not that she wanted to violently get rid of the Brotherhood of Steel. In actuality, Nora respected the Brotherhood. They were… dedicated.

Elder Maxson, however. He was what worried Nora. She could never tell if the young man was simply dedicated, or if he was… mad with power.

It was ironic that Shaun mentioned that Nora probably has friends among the Brotherhood, but she had chosen the Institute as her family. Because the choice to help the Institute had been easy. But to face the Brotherhood of Steel in open battle—that would be difficult for Nora. She knew too many men and women—good men and women—in the Brotherhood of Steel. Seeing their faces, dead, was not something she wanted to live with.

Just as she didn't want to live seeing the dead faces of her friends in the Railroad. But it was not something she believed Shaun understood.

 _Why does everyone in this post-apocalyptic world take other people's lives for granted?_

As Nora approached the Boston Commons, following the Freedom Trail for old time's sake as she thought and repeated to herself that she had chosen the Institute—she had chosen the Institute and she had to stick with the Institute—Nora heard several Vertibirds flying and firing overhead.

"Strange," she said out loud, watching another one fly directly overhead. What was the Brotherhood of Steel doing in this part of Boston? And why so many Vertibirds? Nora would understand if they had sent one or two Vertibirds to clear out a Super Mutant camp or Raider hang-out, but there were more than two hovering around…

"Shit!" Nora gasped and started to run. "No, no, no! Fuckin' bastards!"


	3. I Not Stupid

**"I Not Stupid"**

Why? Why would Elder Maxson have the Railroad attacked _now_? Nora thought she had stalled all the Brotherhood's plans when she took the beryllium agitator from the Mass Fusion building. Liberty Prime would remain inactive and Elder Maxson would have to focus on finding an alternate power source for his giant-killer robot.

Nora thought she had more time.

But no. Instead, Elder Maxson had chosen to focus an attack on the Railroad, so soon after losing the race to the agitator. Was he afraid that the Railroad would get in the way of finding a new power source? Or did he think that the Railroad had such a power source? Because they didn't; it would have been faulty intel if he thought they did.

It didn't make sense. Surely Maxson should have withdrawn any plans to attack the Railroad to focus on getting Liberty Prime working. Liberty Prime should have become a desperate priority now that the Institute had gone nuclear. Destroying the Institute as soon as possible would have become vital if the Brotherhood of Steel wanted control over the Commonwealth.

So why attack the Railroad, even if he could spare the resources to make such an attack? Was it personal? By attacking the Railroad, was Elder Maxson sending a message _to her_? Hitting a place that he knew Nora had affiliation with?

Maybe he wasn't just trying to stop the Institute's plans. Maybe, Elder Maxson was declaring war on Nora's plans.

Nora's breath caught in her throat.

Was it possible? Had Nora become the greatest threat in Maxson's mind? Making his new priority to eliminate anyone affiliated to her, because he couldn't attack her directly so long as she was safe in the Institute's walls. Making the Railroad a bigger target… Because they were vulnerable… and they might know how to get to Nora.

Why did _that_ make so much sense that it sent shivers down Nora's spine?

"Damn him to hell," Nora said under her breath as she ran. "Damn him and his Brotherhood of Steel to hell." What was she going to do? She didn't exactly know, but she kept running.

Nora had been heading to Railroad HQ so that she could kill the "Railroad leadership" as Shaun had ordered her to. But if she let the Brotherhood of Steel do the dirty work, Nora wouldn't have to watch people she respected die at her own hands. It would make what she had to do easier.

It was only now as she ran toward North Church, with idea of punching Maxson in the face if she ever got that close to him again, that Nora realized: she never had any intention of following the order to destroy the Railroad. She wouldn't—she couldn't. The Railroad would not die—not if she had anything she could do about it.

It wasn't too late, she hoped. By the sound of it, the vertibirds were still firing. Meaning they were probably still clearing out the feral ghouls surrounding the church—the ferals that were intentionally a part of the Railroad's defenses.

"I need power armor," Nora professed. There was no doubt that she would be facing a few power-armored Brotherhood Knights, and her own power armor would make it feel like justice to face off with them. Her closest set of power armor was inside Railroad HQ. Sneaking in to get it, while the attacking was going on, would be rather pointless. She would have to fight her way in, drawing attention to her and the fact of how she got inside.

Unless…

Nora slowed down as she was passing Faneuil Hall. She could hear Super mutants outside talking, the way Super mutants talked. It was always, "I'm bored. I'm hungry," or short arguments about what to kill next.

As she counted six of them total outside the building, Nora stuck to the shadows. They hadn't noticed her, not yet anyway. Three of them were on the stairs and platforms in the alley next to Faneuil Hall. Two of them were carrying missile launchers— _Bingo!_ There was nothing like a couple of Super mutants with missile launchers to distract the Brotherhood of Steel.

Below the platform was a Super mutant suicider. And next to him, there was one carrying a simple board. The last of the six—he was patrolling the ground in front of Faneuil Hall. He wore a helmet and carried what looked like a modified pipe rifle. It had a scope and marksman's handle.

For a forfeited moment, Nora watched the patrolling Super Mutant. He didn't walk like his fellow Super mutants. He was more careful in his strides, and more observant of his surroundings. He was… intelligent. More so than the others.

 _Bingo times two_ , she thought, smiling as she clung to the shadowed wall she was against. She quietly took out a Stealth Boy she had been saving. Hitting the switch, the invisible field covered her and she made her way across the street toward the patrolling Super mutant.

She was crouching low to the ground as she snuck up near him. He was already turning his head this way and that, feeling something near, but not seeing anything.

"Hey, big guy," Nora whispered, "I've got something for you."

The Super mutant drew his sniper rifle and pointed it to where he thought he heard her voice. But she had already snuck behind him, keeping to his backside as best she could.

He grunted and said, "I not stupid, human! I know you're invisible. Hiding like a coward."

"You're right," Nora complimented him, still following his back as he twisted around looking for her. "You're not stupid. I've been watching you. You're smart. Much smarter than your brothers. I bet they make fun of you because you're too smart. And they're jealous. Is that why they put you down here, in the line of fire?"

"Rrraaa-ah!" he swung a hand out trying to grab for her.

"I want to help," Nora said acting offended as she dodged his reach. "You see, I think you deserve to be more than just the brute of your group. What do you think?"

He stopped and thought for a moment, his nose flaring. "You crazy if you think Super mutant get help from human. Mutants kill all humans."

"Not the smart super mutants," she declared, standing her ground. The Stealth Boy was almost timed out. She would be seen any second now. "And you, my green friend, are smart."

"If I see human, I kill human," he growled through his teeth.

"At least listen to my idea before you decide to kill me," she seriously told him. He squinted and grimaced, pointing his rifle right at Nora as she became visible in front of him. Her hands were held up, showing she was unarmed—presumably.

"You're different than your brothers, and you know it," she said staring him down. "Otherwise you would have killed me already."

He grunted, poking the barrel of his rifle at Nora's chest. "Speak human. Super mutant listening."

"I knew you were different," she quietly acknowledged, smiling. The Super mutant's grimace became meaner, showing an ugly set of yellow teeth as he poked Nora a little harder in the chest. She was forced a step back—putting her almost in view of the other Super mutants. Quickly, Nora explained, "Do you hear those vertibirds in the distance? You and your brothers could take those vertibirds out with your missile launchers. Think of the explosions it would cause. Wouldn't it be fun to see the Brotherhood of Steel fail and explode like that?"

"Hmmm," he grumbled. "Could be a trap."

"Smart thinking. But you're wrong. This is an opportunity to prove that you can lead your brothers," she contested with. "Prove to your brothers that you're smart enough to be their Master. Maybe even Overlord. Lead them in this attack against the Brotherhood of Steel. Show your brother's what victory looks like."

The Super mutant leaned in and said, "And what does victory look like, pretty human?"

She couldn't tell if he had said pretty or puny, because she had never heard a super mutant call a human pretty before. "Victory looks like you," Nora answered, holding the rest of her breath in so that she wouldn't have to smell the foulness of his.

The super mutant's stare was calculating; then a guttural noise started from deep within his throat as he dropped his rifle to one side and grabbed Nora by her throat. She gasped as he reached. He lifted Nora up, snarling and then drawing her into his face. "Don't need human to make victory."

"No," she rasped. "But… I need super mutants. The Brotherhood of… Steel… is attacking… my friends… " Nora was blacking out; she could feel it. "Please… help… me."

The mutant dropped her, allowing air into her lungs. Nora stayed crouched as she reestablished steady breathing.

"Better run, pretty human," he ordered as strapped his rifle to his back. "My brothers won't listen if they see me talking to human."

"And the vertibirds?" Nora quickly asked.

"As good as dead," the super mutant laughed, walking toward the platforms and his brethren.

"Thank you," Nora called as she scampered away back to the shadows.

Making agreements with Super mutants—it was probably something punishable by execution if she had remained with the Brotherhood of Steel. It was also insane, but Nora had lost all sense of what was sane the moment she stepped out of her cryogenic pod in Vault 111.

Everyone kept trying to convince her that survival was sane. No matter who or what got in your way of your own survival—the rule of the wasteland: in order to survive, you have to be willing to do anything. Morality went out the door along with compassion and trust.

 _It won't truly be the end of the world until all the hope is gone_ , Nora reminded herself, padding the pocket she kept Codsworth's chip in.

Nora waited and followed a distance as the Super mutants rallied under her new Super mutant friend. They were all very excited to go blow something up. And they were all happy with—she should have asked him if he had a name. Because if he died in the attack, she wouldn't know how to remember him other than "that one super mutant who helped me".

So Nora decided that if he survived, she would ask for his name. Or she would bestow him a name if he didn't have one. He let her live—he deserved a name.


	4. Seeing Red Again

**Seeing Red Again**

The Brotherhood of Steel had already dropped squadrons on the ground. Old North Church—both entrances appeared compromised. Nora _would_ have to fight her way into Railroad HQ, no matter which entrance she chose. Fortunately her back-up, the Super mutants, were very helpful, because most of the squadrons were distracted and kept busy by boards and missiles to the face.

Laughably, other nearby Super mutants when they saw the exploding vertibirds from their encampments decided to join in. There were now probably more than twenty Super mutants running around having a grand ol' time attacking the Brotherhood.

"Hey, metal man," Nora heard one Super mutant cry. "Do you know what piss and metal smell like together. You're about to find out."

Nora also watched three Super mutants trying to bash open the Brotherhood Knights power armor with nothing but boards. She caught herself laughing out loud, because the Knight didn't seem to know what to do and started running while trying to shoot, tripping backwards on rubble.

It was wrong to laugh at the violence, she knew. But she did anyway. This was what the Wasteland had turned her into—a survivor who laughed in the face of danger. It reminded her of the interview she gave Piper back in Diamond City. When she was asked how the Commonwealth and Diamond City compared to her old life, Nora had jokingly told Piper that she was having too much fun blowing up things to think about it. At the time Nora was just joking, but after everything that had happened to her—all the sick twists of fate—it had become true. Nora liked blowing shit up.

It was the loneliness, too.

After what happened to Codsworth, and then the… situation with Danse, Nora rarely traveled with a companion. Sometimes she took X6-88 with her, especially when she was doing something for the Institute. But X6-88 rarely spoke, and she liked it that way. Which was why, more often than not, Nora traveled the Commonwealth alone.

Secretly, Nora was ashamed of what she had become. She saw herself as a monster. Cynical. Dangerous. Vengeful. And alone. Somberly she believed the loneliness was deserved.

As Nora watched the mayhem at the church from another building window, a hand reached out and touched her shoulder from behind. Nora jumped, grabbing for her pistol. She had let her guard down.

"Hey, it's me. It's me!" a familiar voice exclaimed.

Deacon, who was in his usual Railroad getup—pompadour wig and sunglasses—jumped back as Nora spun on him. She knew who it was, but she was excited and panicked all at once. She stared at him shaking for a moment, pistol pointed at him, before she dropped the pistol and jumped into Deacon with a hug. "You're alive," she breathed, squeezing him and making sure he was real. "You're alive," she whispered, holding back tears.

"Yeah… Boss." Deacon was greatly taken aback by the hug, but as Nora clung to him tighter, he finally returned his own heartfelt hug. "Yeah. I'm alive."

"What about everyone else?" Nora suddenly demanded, pushing away from him in a panic. "Did anyone get out with you?"

Deacon cringed and expressed, "Shit. To tell you the truth, I'm returning from reconnaissance. Of all the times I leave Railroad HQ, and the Brotherhood of Steel decides to attack when I'm gone?!" He groaned in frustration, pulling off his wig and stomping on it. "And what's with the Super mutant rampage?"

"We have to get inside!" Nora ferociously said, ignoring the question. She didn't waste another second and recovered her pistol, making sure it was fully loaded. "Do you have a gun?" she asked Deacon. But before he even answered, Nora was handing off another pistol she had strapped to her leg. He took it, though she knew he had his own weapon somewhere on him.

"Pistols against the Brotherhood?" he quipped.

"The goal is to make it inside HQ and get my power armor," she explained. If you see a weapon you prefer lying around on our way in, feel free to take it. "Ready?" she asked as she quickly checked her pip-boy for her vitals.

Deacon put on a serious face and said in a deep voice, "Locked and loaded, Boss."

Nora evilly smiled. "Follow me."

She decided they'd go through the church and crypt entrance to get inside HQ. Mostly because the building was now on fire and many of the Brotherhood of Steel seemed to migrate toward the other entrance farther away from the church. The Super mutants had followed.

There were still a few stragglers still fighting inside the church; she could hear them.

"Deacon," she said as they ran toward the church. "Don't attack the Super mutants unless they attack you."

"Uh… Okay. I think… " he confusedly replied, but Nora knew he'd listen.

They were attacked by two Brotherhood Aspirants from across the street as they reached the church doors that had been left open. Smoke was pouring out. Deacon crouched down among the smoke and started to fire. Nora stood her ground and aimed, using VATS.

All it took was one head-shot to each Aspirant from Nora, and their heads simply splattered into pieces.

"You know," Deacon said, getting up. "It's scary how good you are at this. Really good."

Nora silently thanked her pip-boy before running into the church. She knew where she was going, but it was difficult to see much else through all the smoke and dust. There were several Super mutant bodies lying around that she almost tripped over. But it was hard to see anything else.

Behind her she heard Deacon calling, "Boss? Boss, can you see through this mess?"

She didn't answer because she ran into something metal, and she pushed herself away from it to fall backwards. Through the smoke she could see that it was a Paladin holding a Gatling laser. Her pistol immediately went up.

The paladin hesitated for a moment, not realizing that whatever ran into him was now on the floor next to him. He turned, searching, then found Nora. Nora went for a head-shot, but it simply ricocheted off the helmet.

"Titanium Plating," Nora guessed with a clenched grimace.

The Paladin spoke, "I was wondering if you'd show up here."

Nora's grimace became pained, and she started to shake. "Paladin Brandis… you were finally approved for duty."

"Yes," the old man answered. "I wanted to be a part of this mission. Elder Maxson personally cleared me for duty." His Gatling laser pointed toward her.

"Brandis," Nora pleaded, still shaking. "Don't you see that Maxson is using you? He knows that… we were friends… "

"You brought his wrath upon yourself," he harshly answered. "For Elder Maxson!" he cried and started to fire.

Her sight filled with red again like so many times before. The laser burns—she could barely feel them anymore because she was always numb with grief underneath her skin. She had screwed-up—somewhere she had screwed-up bad. _Maybe_ , she thought, _I deserve to die…_

 _But not today…_

Nora covered her face with an arm and screamed, "Deacon!"

In the distance she heard, "Already on it, Boss!" And a missile came flying at Brandis from the direction of the pews.

This was her chance. While Brandis recovered, Nora rolled to her feet, grabbing a Jet inhaler from her belt. She inhaled the drug as she spun around Brandis. Everything, but her, was in slow motion—her target was the fusion core on the back of Brandis' power armor. When Nora was in position, she stopped and waited for the Jet to wear off.

"I'm sorry," she sincerely spoke, hoping Brandis heard. Then she took two shots at the glowing core, before lowering her pistol. Brandis' armor short-circuited dropping the Gatling laser at some point as he tried to turn to face Nora.

Once they were facing each other, Brandis said, "The Brotherhood of Steel will win this war." He did not attempt to leave his power armor. The old man was accepting his death.

Nora closed her eyes, holding back tears again. She wanted herself to be close to the explosion, because she wanted to feel Brandis' pain. She was sickened the way things turned out. Brandis had once been her comrade—she was murdering a good man. A good soldier. Nora believed she deserved whatever injuries would come.

It was unexpected when Deacon came flying at her forcing her to the ground just before the explosion. When the fiery cloud cleared, Deacon was on top of her; his hands were over her ears as he held her head. He had protected her from the worse of the blast.

 _Why would he do that?_ Nora wondered.

As Deacon rolled off—as if it was nothing to protect someone like he just had—he said, "Ugh, I think I'm going to need a stimpak for every part of my body. Except my head. It doesn't seem right to stab one directly into the head."

Staring up at the burning ceiling, Nora responded, "The roof is getting ready to collapse." She crawled up from the debris she had landed on thanks to Deacon. Despite the soreness she felt everywhere, she immediately started tugging on Deacon's arm to get him up. He hadn't seemed to hear what she had said.

 _Of course he didn't_ , she realized. He had covered her ears from the explosion—not his own.

Now she was yanking on him until he got up. Burning beams were starting to fall, and Deacon finally noticed the collapsing roof. Both of them hurried and tripped their way to the crypt entrance, hands over their heads. The crash of the collapsing roof just missed them, but sent a massive cloud of dust that followed them into the crypt. They were both coughing, bleeding, and barely alive once they made it onto the dank, dirt ground.

"I think I'm going to need surgery just to get all the splinters out of my head," Deacon said through several coughs.

"It's not over yet," Nora whispered back to him. She could hear gunfire further into the crypt.


	5. Glorifying Death

**Glorifying Death**

"Return the pistol I gave you, will ya?" she rasped as she elbowed Deacon. They were both still crawling on the ground trying to recover from the roof almost collapsing on top of them. Nora needed a weapon, because she had dropped _The Bleeder_ when Deacon performed his act of heroism up top. She wasn't going to mention to him, however, that she had lost her favorite gun when he did this. She could be just as much of a gunslinger with any other 10mm pistol.

Not wanting to insult his act of heroism, Nora was also not going to mention to Deacon that she wouldn't have died or lost any limbs from the explosion. She may have gotten banged up a little—pun intended—but she certainly knew that the blast would not have killed her. Weeks ago, she had received a medical procedure from Dr. Volkert at the Institute that infused three layers of adamantium to her skeleton. It was impossible for Nora to break a bone or lose a limb.

There was also a super resilient toughness to her skin; perhaps developed because of all the other explosions she'd survived in the Wasteland. So it was only natural for Nora to be fury and fire with the explosives that she'd come to love, while maintaining her beautiful pre-war skin. Not that she was that vain about her looks, but she would begin worrying if she started looking ghoulish.

Nora had thought she had elbowed Deacon in the arm until he was like, "Ack, my eye. You hit me in the eye, Boss."

"Deacon, I'm sorry! It's so hard to see down here." She tried feeling around for him so she could comfort him as if she was a mother—it was instinctive.

When Nora found him in the dark with a gentle nudge of a hand, he guided her hand to his, which innocently held the gun she'd asked for. "Only joking with you," he absently chuckled. "I'm ready to move out when you are."

Nora took the pistol and as she got on her feet, she replied, "Why are you joking at a time like this?"

"Well… I'm nervous," he unevenly expressed, getting to his feet next to her. "That has to be it," he agreed with himself. "I want everyone to be… alive. So maybe I'm one of those people who try to replace anxious situations with humor."

"Right, nerves… Everyone else… " Nora repeated, knowing the same was true of her. She was terrified of finding everyone else dead. Of finding anyone dead, really.

Nora switched the light on her Pip-Boy on and after a deep breath, said, "Let's go."

The light attracted attention as Nora knew it would. Several Aspirants started firing from around the crypt corners as they went further in. In most situations like this, Nora would throw a frag grenade and be done with it. But she didn't want to harm any Railroad Agents that might come sprinting from inside HQ. Instead, she was going to get right up close and head-shot them.

"Back me up," she called to Deacon as she ran down the crypt with her pistol aimed and firing.

"Always," he genially informed her.

Nora sprinted down the crypt as Deacon crouched and shot past her whenever one of the Aspirants peeked their head around the corner. When Nora rounded the corner, she grabbed one Aspirant by the head gear and swung him around into the other Aspirant. As the two hostiles collided with one another, Nora head-shot one and when the other fell to the ground with the weight of his comrade on top of him, she unscathed a combat knife and gouged it into his angry face before he could push the dead weight on top of him off.

A power armored Knight then came running at her, screaming, "For Elder Maxson." After ramming Nora, the Knight picked her up and threw her against the wall. Nora felt a little dizzy, and didn't even try get up from where she dropped. She was pretty sure she was in a coffin with a skeleton underneath her. But she did land facing up, so she pointed her pistol above her at the two moving helmets of the Knight. VATs was able to sort out which helmet was the real one. Nora got six bullets into the round before the helmet broke open and fell off. Four more bullets into the round and the Knight was dead.

"What a waste of bullets," Nora remarked as she dropped her pistol arm and wiped blood from her face with the other.

"Bedtime's over, Boss," Deacon called from even further in the crypt. By the sound of it, he was firing a laser rifle that he had picked up from the Aspirants.

"My bedtime isn't until I'm finally in hell," Nora growled, forcing adrenaline into herself in order to climb out of the coffin. She plunged a stimpak into her chest while she had the momentum. Momentum and adrenaline was all she had left, because she knew she was on the brink of collapsing from mental strain.

Fortunately, they were almost at the HQ entrance, and Nora wasn't going to let anything get in her way this close to it. And nothing did. It took her four more rounds and one more stimpak, but she and Deacon stood in front of the HQ entrance breathing heavily with three power-armored Knights, two Scribes, and three Aspirants dead behind them.

Deacon opened his mouth to say something, but Nora gasped, "No words, you. No words." Because she felt no words could sum up what they had just done.

She trudged into the HQ entrance, supporting herself on the wall. "What I wouldn't do for a Nuka-Cola right now," she mumbled.

Around the entrance's corner she heard a faint, "Charmer? Is… Is that you?"

Nora's heart stopped when she rounded the corner. She fell to her knees and covered her mouth. Glory, was on the ground, back and shoulder resting on the wall. But the ground and wall were splattered with blood—Glory was hunched over in pain. There were several bodies of Brotherhood of Steel at her feet.

"None of them got past me," Glory commented on Nora's look of surprise and horror, before she cringed against the wall. "Damn that stings," she said trying to breathe. "Listen, the Railroad's always sitting on their hands… " Her face twisted, and she wailed from a spasm of pain. "You're the best thing that's ever happened," she got out, looking up into Nora's eyes. Shakily, she then expressed, "Promise me you'll free them. All of them."

It put Nora on the spot, but she placed a gentle hand on Glory's shoulder and confidently replied, albeit hoarsely, "I'll do better than just freeing all of them. I'll make sure they have a future. I promise."

Glory managed a chuckle. "We should have… given you… the nickname Dreamer." Her breaths became shorter and shorter. In a panicked, shrill voice she asked, "Isn't there… Isn't there supposed to be a light?"

Then she was gone.

Covering her mouth again, Nora tried to hold back the sob agonizing her chest and throat. Her eyes were already tinged with tears. Deacon awkwardly stood a few feet away, sunglasses off, but eyes closed. His face was a mixture of remorse and grief.

"If… If we had gotten here sooner," Nora squeaked at him, understanding the remorse she saw.

Deacon smoothed his bald head as if he was expecting his pompadour wig to be there. When it wasn't, he threw his hand down in frustration. He had to force himself to relax for a moment, but then he said, "I know. But we don't have time to think about that right now."

Nora finally let go of Glory's shoulder, and swallowed. She stood up, walked over the bodies on the ground, and walked past Deacon. At the door that went into Railroad HQ, and knowing Deacon was standing behind her, she quoted, "Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and passion to reach for the stars and change the world."

"Boss… " Deacon seemed both touched and confused. "Where did you hear that?"

With a smile that hid her grief, she answered, "Just something Harriet Tubman supposedly said." Then Nora opened the door.


	6. Pivotal Variables

**Pivotal Variables**

There was chaos inside Railroad HQ. Despite Glory's success and ultimate sacrifice to keep any Brotherhood of Steel from getting past her through the crypt, the Brotherhood had found their way through the escape tunnel entrance—blasted their way in with explosives. HQ was now undergoing heavy fire; Railroad Agents were running amok trying to eliminate the Knights that had poured in.

Deacon immediately joined the fight, running off toward the back of HQ. Nora crouched out of sight and crept up to Tinker Tom, who was hiding under a desk and only peeking out to take opportune shots. When she got close to him, she saw the reason he was hiding. He had been shot in the leg one too many times.

"Charmer, it's so good to see you," he said delightfully when she joined him under his desk. Nora recognized the grin. Tinker Tom was on a chem, or probably a mixture of two.

"You can't just be normal like the rest of us, Tom, and take a stimpak when you're injured?" she harassed as she took her last stimpak and plunged it into his leg. He squirmed, but then relaxed.

"I won't take stimpaks from Carrington until he tells me where he's getting them from," he revealed, beginning to crawl from hiding.

"Maybe he makes them himself," Nora offered as she followed him.

"That's what he told me!" Tinker Tom shouted as he started making direct shots at the back of a power-armored Knight. "But what about the stuff he makes them out of! Gotta' know all the sources!"

Nora also started firing at it with her pistol, but asked as she did so, "Tom, I need a fusion core. Do you have any?"

"There might be a few stashed in my desk," he answered as he started running. The Knight had mowed down two other Railroad Agents with a minigun and was now turning her attention toward them.

"Shit," Nora responded, stunt-rolling back under the desk just as the minigun started firing. She covered her ears as the bullets hit, clanged, and dented the metal all around her; everything on top of the desk was demolished. All the while, she was taking bullets in her legs.

 _If I feign death_ , she thought. _The Knight will move her attention elsewhere, giving me time to retrieve a fusion core._

So she did. She made the show of falling to the floor as if she had died. Any blood would make it all the more convincing.

It was supposed to be a relief when it worked and the minigun stopped firing, but Nora was petrified at what she discovered from her new view from the floor. Lying on the floor, close enough to see, but not close enough to reach, was Doctor Carrington. Dead-dead, and not pretend dead. His head was shot clean off. Nora's jaw clenched as she felt bile in the back of her throat.

The Knight was now running toward her, maybe to identify Nora's pretend dead body—as if her blue vault 111 suit wasn't a dead giveaway of who she was. Nora kept very still, staring at Carrington's body in silent distress, as the Knight stopped directly next to her and started firing her minigun at somebody else that was around the corner.

Nora could feel the heat of the minigun on her hands. It gave her a somewhat sadistic idea.

 _I know where to get my fusion core,_ she vehemently thought.

And in an instant she was kicking the minigun out of the Knight's hands. As the Knight was realizing what was happening, reaching to retrieve her minigun, Nora reached and pulled herself up with the wheel on the back of the power armor. She was clinging to the Knight like a vampire as she worked at pulling the power core out with her bare hands—something that was dangerously hot when it was being used.

The Knight inside the power armor started freaking out, cursing, and trying to swing Nora from her back. Meanwhile, Tinker Tom, who had been the one around the corner, was shooting at the Knight.

Finally, with a tug which for normal people would pull arms out of sockets, Nora turned the wheel hard enough for the suit to unlock and open. She was thrown to the ground, but went tumbling with the Brotherhood of Steel woman from the suit in her grasp.

The two of them struggled against, strangled, and punched each other.

"Deceitful traitor!" the woman screamed, hitting Nora fervidly in the jaw.

"Bigot," Nora spat blood into the Knight's face, before punching back. The punch knocked the woman out. Then Nora climbed over her to get inside the power suit.

After that, it didn't take long to exterminate the rest of the Brotherhood inside HQ—especially because of the mayhem Nora caused by jumping into a Brotherhood suit that looked like one of their own, blocking off their exit, and firing a minigun at them. It also meant that most of the Brotherhood's fire focused on her for the last few minutes, but this also gave any remaining Railroad Agents a chance to retaliate.

As a small tribute to Glory, and as a battle-cry for the Railroad Agents, Nora yelled, "For every Brotherhood of Steel that _doesn't_ make it out, there's a round on me!"

The minigun fell silent when the last Brotherhood of Steel soldier fell dead. But no cheer of victory spread across HQ. Instead, there was an ominous silence—so few Railroad Agents had survived. Everyone stood motionless in devastation, holding a wound, or leaning on another for support. Nora stayed in the power armor to hide her confused and upset demeanor.

The silence was soon interrupted by P.A.M. running into the main room saying, "Unpredicted loss of pivotal variables requires a system reboot."

Then she ran in front of the hunched over, tired Deacon and repeated, "Unpredicted loss of pivotal variables requires a system reboot."

She had everyone's attention now as she then ran to Tinker Tom. "Unpredicted loss of pivotal variables requires a system reboot."

"P.A.M.! Hey girl, calm down. We'll getcha' fixed up as soon as... Well, as soon as _we_ get fixed up," Tinker Tom told her.

Nora—who finally realized something—exited the power armor she'd stolen. P.A.M. ran to her and repeated, "Unpredicted loss of pivotal variables—"

"I think she's trying to tell us something," Nora explained to everyone, before running to P.A.M.'s side area of HQ with P.A.M. following.

When Nora confirmed what she suspected by entering P.A.M's nook, she stopped on the ramp and closed her burning eyes. Yet it was more than her eyes; her head was burning, too. Probably with fever. Her lips were dry, and every fiber of her body ached. Nora had pushed herself to her limits. She was sick.

Especially sick of death…

Desdemona's laser-burned body lay at the foot of ramp; a railway rifle several feet from her. The body of a Brotherhood of Steel Scribe lay over the table with P.A.M.'s Mainframe Terminal; dead by railway spikes in his back. A holotape labeled "Decryption Program" was under the table where a second Scribe's body lay. A railway spike pinned her hand down preventing her from reaching the holotape, but it looked as if she'd managed to maneuver enough to continue firing her laser pistol at Desdemona. It also looked like Desdemona managed to get several more railway spikes into the Scribe before… the laser burns proved too much.

Nora crouched down to examine Desdemona's body, when— _Oh my God! The scribe under the table is Scribe Haylen!_

Nora fell back onto her hands, before crawling her way up the ramp and holding onto the railing as if she was drowning. Because she was drowning—drowning in the blood on her hands and the grief that she didn't know how to express anymore because there was so much of it. Everywhere.

Reality became distorted, because Nora could only see an endless sea of blood in her mind.

* * *

She must have blacked out, because the next thing Nora remembered was Deacon shaking her back to reality. His terrified face was the first thing she registered. And she wanted to say, _"Please don't be terrified of me. I didn't want to be a monster, but that's what I became."_ But then she realized he was terrified for some other reason. That he wasn't terrified of her at all.

"The Scribe… under the table… she's alive! She said your name! Nora, what should we do?!"


	7. Cheesy and Ballsy

**Cheesy and Ballsy**

"Get stimpaks! Quick!" Nora barked, scrambling to get up. Deacon stood with her and blocked her way when she tried to run; she ran into his solid chest and slightly bounced off in surprise. "Move!" she screamed, swinging her arms at him, but he grabbed them and held them in place. "There's no time!" Nora pleaded as she struggled against him. If she were at full strength she could take him, but she was too worn out. And she didn't really want to hurt him. Why the hell was he in her way?

"We have to save her," she tried scolding him. "We can't let Haylen die!"

"She's the enemy," Deacon said coldly.

"No! She's not!" Nora started screaming again. The Railroad Agents left from the battle for HQ—Tinker Tom, Drummer Boy, and few other familiar faces—they were all crowded around the entrance to P.A.M.s nook watching Deacon stand-up to Nora. "You don't understand! She's not like the other Brotherhood of Steel! She's… a good person… " She stopped struggling against Deacon and with a sob said, "Please, Deacon. Help me save her."

Deacon merely glared. He wasn't wearing a wig or his sunglasses, and for once Nora could determine the entirety of his emotions. He was terrified. And he was angry. Terrified. Angry. And tired.

"Ah, hell," he growled, but released Nora's arms before turning away. "Drummer Boy, see if Carrington had any extra stimpaks lying around and help Nora with our... guest. Tom, see if any damage was done to P.A.M.'s mainframe. The rest of you start tending to your own wounds before we assess the damage to HQ."

Nora didn't wait for an order and ran past Deacon and everybody else into the main part of HQ to the toolbox next to her Railroad power armor. She started throwing everything from the toolbox until she found the tool she wanted: a crowbar. With the crowbar in hand, she ran back to P.A.M.'s area, down the ramp, past a cross-armed Deacon who had already found and put his sunglasses back on. Tom, above, was working on moving the other scribe—the dead scribe—out of his way so he could work on P.A.M.s terminal. Nora crouched under the table to Scribe Haylen.

"Haylen," Nora spoke close to Haylen's head.

She answered to her name with a pain-soaked moan, but didn't move. Bitterly and throatily, she said, "Nora, how could you? You killed him. You killed Danse and then betrayed the Brotherhood… "

"No," Nora replied. "I mean… yes. No… I mean no to the first thing. But yes to the second."

"Danse's blood is still on your hands, even if Maxson was the one who pulled the trigger," Haylen heaved out, before she started hyperventilating. "Arrraaah," she cried as she tried to move. "You know, those Railway Rifles are quite a piece of tech," she joked through gritted teeth.

Drummer Boy came running down the ramp and crouched next to Nora. "These were all I found," he handed her two stimpaks.

"That's all we'll need," she told him. "Help me nudge the table enough to so it's not over Scribe Haylen's body." Drummer Boy didn't say anything as he helped move the table, without interrupting Tinker Tom, as best as they could. Nora then pointed at Deacon and said, "Now help Deacon move Desdemona's body to a more respectable place."

Nora wasn't sure how many understood, but by saving P.A.M. from the Brotherhood of Steel, Desdemona had saved the Railroad. Or at least—if the remaining Railroad HQ Agents made it through the rest of the night—they wouldn't have to build from the ground up to keep Railroad operations going.

Desdemona sacrificed herself, not just for a synth, but for a robot. Nora understood all too well. She would have taken Codsworth's place if there had been a choice.

Of course, Desdemona's choice had to have been more tactical than emotional. P.A.M. was an asset to the Railroad. Nora was sure that most of the Railroad's success was due to the robot's analytical predictions. But, it was an interestingly warming thought, Nora thought, to think that Desdemona would have given her life for not just her fellow man or synth, but her fellow robot.

When Drummer Boy was out of the way, Nora stood with the crowbar and said, "This is going to hurt, Haylen."

Haylen grunted—or maybe it was a laugh. "What are you—Ahhhhhwww!" she shrieked when Nora pulled the railway spike out of her hand with the crowbar.

Nora immediately crouched down and stabbed Haylen's hand with a stimpak.

"Ohhhhhrrrgh, that burns," Haylen snarled. It was true. Stimpaks burned when they regenerated holes of flesh. The bigger the hole, the more of a burn. And it left a hell of a scar.

"Danse isn't dead," Nora said plainly as she now helped Scribe Haylen sit up.

"What?" Haylen looked up at her with imploring eyes.

Nora shook her head to indicate that she wasn't ready to talk about it, and put a hand on one of the railway spikes in Haylen's side. Haylen gasped, but then nodded. Nora yanked, and out went the spike. Another groan of pain shot through Haylen's mouth. Nora didn't wait and immediately yanked another. And then another. And another.

"Oh, I hate you!" Haylen cried.

"You should try child birth," Nora replied as she grasped the final railway spike in Haylen's thigh. Haylen's pleading eyes looked at her again. "It has to come out before you get the last stimpak," she told Haylen. And then Nora yanked.

This time there was no scream, because Haylen, instead, passed out. Nora didn't mind and stabbed Haylen's side with the stimpak before getting up and getting her own hair out of her face from sweat. She took a deep breath and then started dragging Haylen to something she could lean her on.

"Is she… Is she gonna' be okay?" Tinker Tom asked.

"She's gonna' be just fine. She just needs some rest," Nora breathed, feeling some kind of reprieve from the grief that she had been swimming in. "Is P.A.M. going to be okay?"

"She's fine," he countered with a Tinker Tom smile. "I've been analyzing the 'Decryption Program' they left behind. I might be able to create a counter program that can kick out any decryption codes thrown at P.A.M. in the future."

"Sounds good," Nora wearily smiled back. "I'm sure you'll be able to cook something up. Hey, can you… watch her for me?" she expressed to him, gesturing to Haylen. "When she wakes up, can you make sure she gets some water and… don't let anyone hurt her. We need her, Tom. Trust me."

"O.K." he tentatively agreed. "Where are you goin'?"

"I need some air," Nora offhandedly responded as she walked out of the area, passing a rebooting P.A.M.

In the main part of HQ, she passed Deacon and Drummer Boy, who had moved Desdemona's body to the round map table. Nora paused next to it, staring briefly, thinking that Desdemona looked like one of the more peaceful dead she'd seen in the wasteland world. It's how Nora wanted to look when she died—peaceful.

Something possessed Nora's memory and she distractedly wandered off toward the escape tunnel. She had almost made it out at the final exit door when a hand took hers and halted her.

"Don't leave," Deacon softly demanded.

"I need to be alone," Nora bleakly stated.

"I don't think you do," he said perceptively. "I wasn't going to say anything, but… " He squeezed her hand. "Nora, you don't deserve to die."

"When did I stop being Boss or Charmer and became Nora, to you?" she became spiteful in tone.

"When I realized you had a death wish," Deacon quietly replied.

"It's… " Damn, he was a perceptive one. "None of your business." She started anxiously shaking; the fact that he was still holding her hand made her shake more. The closeness… it hurt. It hurt because she had been hurt too much by watching too many people she was close to die. Intimacy had become a blade and something she was supposed to deflect or avoid. "Let go of me."

He listened, and Nora immediately took a step away from him, instinctively holding herself for some form of comfort. All she had was herself, because that's all she really wanted.

"Listen… " Deacon started. Nora turned away and hid her face behind her hair as he spoke. "You're needed… You can't just… run away from everything. You can't… think that you deserve to die and not care when it almost happens."

"Look at you stepping up and taking charge," she perversely mocked. "Whoever thought that the paranoid, careful Deacon would be able to handle everything that's happened with the style of a leader? I might actually start believing the lie that you are and have been the real leader of the Railroad all along."

His face toughened, but he managed to shield any other reaction. "I get it," he replied. "You're hurt and you're trying to hurt me so that I'll leave you alone. Well, news flash, _Boss_. You're trying to hide from the king of hiding. But here's something honest: I'm not a leader. It's not my style and I'll fall apart in there any minute if you leave. The Railroad… will cease to exist. I can't keep the act of leading going very long. Not without you. You're the only thing keeping the Railroad together. Keeping… me together. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I need you. As cheesy as that sounds, and ballsy as it is for me to tell you that."

The mental blade of intimacy dug in and Nora's chest tightened. She couldn't breathe. Finally, with a low, raspy whisper she said, "I'm not leaving. I'll be back. I just need… time alone. To think."

They stood there motionless for half a minute. Then Deacon cleared his throat and said, "Pinky swear that you'll be back?" And he reached a hooked pinky out.

A short smile escaped Nora's lips. "Sure, pinky swear." And she joined a hooked pinky to his.

"Now you have to come back," he commented when they let go of the pinky swear. "Otherwise… I'll hunt you down and get that pinky. Your pinky is so mine."

"Shut up," Nora said through a smile. "You," she pointed at him and then the door back to HQ, "go back in there and be the leader you always wanted to be. I'll be back… soon."

Deacon stood there swaying on his heals and clapping his hands together as he always did when he was waiting around. "I'll be waiting," he said in a villainous voice.

Nora left smiling. It was sunrise and everything seemed happy for a few minutes. But when she was distant enough from HQ, her smile dropped and she had her mind set on something, somewhere, and someone entirely different.

It was to Vault 111 for her.


	8. Biggest Idiot There Ever Was

**Biggest Idiot There Ever Was**

From a tactical standpoint, the elevator down to Vault 111 was the perfect place for an ambush. In fact, the entire area just had ambush written all over it, from the big open space to the little portable units where anyone could hide and shoot through their windows. Nora, only now as she approached the elevator, wondered why she hadn't set up some sort of defense system at the vault entrance. Sanctuary Hills was… well, just down the hill. She had the resources to build generators, turrets, and traps.

Why had Vault 111 completely escaped Nora's mind up until she was looking at Desdemona's dead, but beautifully peaceful expression? Vault 111 was significant to Nora. For terrible reasons, but still significant. What was inside Vault 111, needed to be protected.

Nora's feeling of security was not bettered in knowing that she had been followed, almost as far as when she'd left Railroad HQ. The subtle footsteps of her pursuer were unmistakable, and unmistakably familiar. She was being followed by a Courser, and she had a very good notion of which Courser.

The only good thing that came from being out in the open was that her Courser pursuer would have to come out in the open, too.

Nora walked up to the precipice of the vault elevator, locked and loaded the assault rifle she'd picked up from a Raider gang she'd hit in the city, and spun around with it aimed right where her pursuer would be. X6-88 was already within feet of her, visible, and had his laser rifle pointed at her. He was taking steps toward her and did not stop when she faced him. He did stop when he was merely a few steps away.

Nora wasn't going to fire—she told herself she wasn't going to fire. She withheld herself from firing until X6-88 fired—he had to fire the first shot so she'd feel better about firing. And she was expecting him to fire. Any second.

Instead, they stared each other down for a few long minutes. The sun was high in the sky, and Nora felt sweat roll down her forehead. X6-88 looked as cool as he always was—dressed in leather and sunglasses—ready to kill. He never seemed to break a sweat, and Nora had asked, "Can gen 3 synths sweat?"

His answer had been, "Only when we need to."

When another bead of sweat rolled over Nora's brow, she exclaimed, "Dammit, shoot me! Let's get this over with."

"I did not come here to kill you, Ma'am."

"Why the hell not?! I don't deserve your forgiveness! Not after I said I wouldn't betray the Institute and that's exactly what I did."

X6-88 stared a little longer—those sunglasses of his gleaming—before he finally queried, "How have you betrayed the Institute?"

Nora restlessly sneered, then swallowed. She found a pulsing lump stuck in her throat. "I couldn't do it," she revealed in a shrill voice. "I couldn't kill my friends in the Railroad. I've chosen to not follow Father's order. I won't take a single life more for Shaun. Not anymore."

"But you will for the Railroad?" X6-88 addressed.

She found herself at an impasse and didn't answer; she didn't have an answer. "Does it matter?" she eventually concluded. "By choosing to not follow Shaun's order, I've betrayed the Institute."

"What do you plan on accomplishing by not following Father's order?" he wouldn't leave it alone.

"Are you serious?!" Nora lost a nerve. "I plan on not killing anyone close to me. Hell, X6, I'm probably not going to kill you either, even if you start firing. I'd rather die than take the life of a friend."

"Then your goal is to protect your friends?"

"Damn straight," she agreed.

"I see you've made up your mind about this." X6-88 did something unexpected then; he slowly set his laser rifle down on the ground.

"What… are you doing?" Nora was confused, and she grasped at her assault rifle as if it was getting ready to be taken from her.

"I'm going to help _my friend_ accomplish what she's determined to accomplish," he obstinately answered. "We will find a way to protect those close to you."

Something bloomed in Nora's chest, and she dropped her gun. "You… You what?" she couldn't understand. Did she hear him right?

Nora suddenly lost all control of her emotions and began to shake with brutal astonishment. Her eyes became blurry and her legs weak. She began stumbling forward, reaching for X6-88. She collapsed into him and buried her head into his neck and shoulder.

Deep sobs started straightaway. Tears came down like waterfalls. She wrapped her arms around X6-88 as if her life depended on it. And when his arms wrapped around her, she started to cry harder. Her eyes wouldn't stop, and her chest felt weightless. Nora hadn't cried like this. Ever. It was like bleeding out a poison that had been slowly tormenting her insides. A painful release as it came out, but a release nonetheless.

She didn't know how much time passed, but her sobs eventually become soft hiccups. Nora was able to focus on breathing again, feeling her chest push up and down against X6-88's chest. His breathing was so steady, so rhythmic, that it soothed her like a lullaby. She kept thinking how he had the best heart in all the Commonwealth. Alive and untainted by fear.

His neck was covered in her tears, sweat, and probably mucous. Nora embarrassedly pulled back, tried sniffing away her runny nose, and wiped what she could from his leather coat. X6-88 merely stood there as if awaiting an order.

"I'm sorry," Nora got out in a somewhat normal voice. "That's what happens… when you're human," she attempted humor. "Also… I forgot you don't like hugs."

"Do you feel better?" he curiously asked.

"Much better," she answered, shedding one final tear that she wiped away with her palm. "I feel free. And happy. Happier than I've been in a long time."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Ma'am. If hugs help, I may be willing to allow more in the future. I'll start carrying a handkerchief for the crying."

Nora let out a free laugh; she was starting to recognize when X6-88 was trying to be funny. He incorporated his own seriousness into the humor.

"You're not allowed to tell anyone about the crying," Nora pretended to be concerned for her reputation. "If I hear any of your Courser buddies talking about it… "

"Your secret is safe with me, Ma'am," he assured her.

"Please, call me Nora, X6. You make feel like I'm 200 years old when you call me Ma'am."

"Ha. Ha," he replied.

Nora smiled, pulling the underused muscles in her face for a genuine smile. The smile seemed to use whatever energy she had left, and she suddenly felt so tired that everything dissolved away with a whoosh.

* * *

When Nora awoke, she was in a clean bed with comfy pillows, under some laundered sheets and a comforter that smelled slightly stale. Her surroundings were completely unfamiliar, but she wasn't worried in the least bit, because the fondly familiar X6-88 was there, next to the bed in a chair. His leather Courser coat was thrown onto the foot of the bed—he wore a black shirt and pants underneath. His booted feet were propped up on the side of the bed. His head was tilted upward against the chair's back. He was still wearing his sunglasses, so Nora couldn't tell if he was awake. She waved at him to see if he would respond, but he didn't.

She couldn't believe it. X6-88 was asleep. She'd never seen him sleep before. She knew he had to, because all Gen 3 synths did. But it was interesting and fun to see him so relaxed and vulnerable. With that in mind, she threw a pillow at him.

After a direct hit to the face, the pillow fell to his lap and a scowl crossed his face. "Not necessary," he said in his usual low voice.

"Oh, I thought it was very necessary," Nora disagreed. "Your face was just asking for a pillow."

He sat up and straightened his now crooked sunglasses. "You passed out," he established, though she hadn't asked. "I took the liberty of moving you into Vault 111. We are in the Overseer's quarters."

"I guessed as much," she said, not bothering to look around. "Thank you," she added.

"Passing out can be avoided by getting the proper amount of sleep each day," he stated, staring at her through his glasses. Was he passive-aggressively admonishing her?

"I suppose that's your way of saying you're worried about me?" she coyly asked, seeing another opportunity to tease him.

"There would be no need to worry if you took care of yourself," he said flatly. He got up and went to the end of the bed, grabbing his coat. And then something underneath. "You've been asleep for over twelve hours. Fortunately no one can follow us in here without a Pip-Boy. Not that I wouldn't be prepared if someone did try to break in." He came around to Nora and showed her what he was holding. "I looked around while you were sleeping. I found a clean Vault 111 suit. It's in far better condition than the one you're wearing despite it also being over 200 years old."

Nora bit her upper lip, not doing a very good job of hiding her very happy smile. She took his offer and unfolded the vault suit to get a good look at it. "Clean," she said thankfully. _A new suit for a livelier me_ , she thought.

"The shower works, if you want to make use of it," he motioned to the Overseer's bathroom. "I'll see if I can find any food while you get cleaned up."

He put his Courser coat back on and as he buttoned it closed, Nora in solemnity asked, "X6… what you said… about helping protect those close to me… What does that mean?"

X6-88 was taken aback by the question and tilted his head while considering how to answer. "As I said before, I think you could accomplish anything that you set your mind to. Meaning: if you wanted to destroy the Institute, the Institute would be destroyed. To make an enemy out of you would be the Institute's downfall. It also means: I'm convinced there is no future for the Institute without you. You _are_ the Institute's future. And to ensure the Institute's future, I must ensure your interests, future Director."

Nora looked down at the new vault suit again. He'd found and given it to her because he realized that Vault 111 was important to her. "Why do you see the bigger picture and no one else does?" she wondered aloud. "You're a synth, a killing synth, and you understand more than anyone else I've come across in this horrible world."

His brow visibly furrowed and he stood statuesque for a long moment. "I don't know," he finally replied. "There appears to be a glitch in my programming. I should return to the Institute and have a diagnostic run."

"No!" Nora jumped out of the bed. "You will do no such thing! Do you understand?!" She grabbed his hand. "You must stay exactly the way you are." She took his other hand in her other hand and put it up to her cheek. "I… don't want you to leave. Stay, right here… until… I'm ready to leave."

"All right," he responded.

Heat ran to Nora's cheeks and sides. She felt her heartbeat flutter and she let go of X6's hands in realization. She turned away and put her own hands up to her cheeks. Was this happening? Was she letting this happen? Was she… did she… have those kinds of feelings towards X6?

 _No… Yes… Maybe? How? Why? Why now?_

"I lied," she decided so fast that her head spun. She turned around and tried pushing X6-88 out of the room. "I don't want you to wait for me right here. Go wait in the kitchen area. Go, go, go," she urged him until he moved. "I'll be ready as soon as I'm cleaned up."

As soon as he was out of her sight, she fell onto the nearest wall, staring shock-eyed at nothing as she banged her head against it. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, Nora_ , she repeated. _He's a Courser. You're a… An idiot. The biggest idiot there ever was._

* * *

 **AN:** I enjoyed writing this chapter. I had too much fun, really. Second longest chapter yet.


	9. A Grim Task

**A Grim Task**

After showering to counter the bloodbath she'd taken at Railroad HQ, Nora went out to the vault kitchen wearing her new Vault 111 suit. She found X6-88 tampering with a toaster. She decided to eavesdrop on him, briefly, halfway hiding behind the kitchen entrance. She watched him push the lever down, then look inside, before he forced the lever up and looked inside. Then he placed the toaster upside down and analyzed its bottom. When he found nothing of interest besides the ancient, burnt, bread crumbs that fell out, he picked the toaster up and shook it.

 _Inquisitiveness_ , Nora observed. And she was wonderstruck by it. X6 -88 was showing inquisitiveness. If there was ever, even a little bit of a doubt about a synth's sentience in Nora before, it was completely gone at this point. But even still, coming from X6-88, inquisitiveness was… abnormal. Significant. The Courser was only ever interested in completing a mission, and made snide comments when Nora side-tracked to look around or collect pre-war things. Did that mean there really was a glitch in his programming?

"X6?" she timidly asked, not approaching him.

X6-88 put the toaster down, turned, and greeted her with a level, "Nora."

Despite the levelness, she smiled at hearing him speak her name. She remained where she was, half hidden from his view. "Oh, umm… " This wasn't a good start, and she looked down becoming aware of her twiddling thumbs—an old habit that she thought she'd broken during her first years of college. To stop, she had to take a deep breath and forcibly part her hands from each other.

"The reason… " she tried starting again.

Years ago—over 200, actually—Nora had taken several speech classes to try and overcome lack of confidence. She couldn't be a very good lawyer if she couldn't appeal to the jury and judge. Nervous habits and any form of lack of confidence had to be fixed, or unnoticeable. She had to learn to wear a poker-face, in a manner of speaking, much like X6-88's routine expression.

"The reason I came to Vault 111 was a personal errand. And… "

But there was something about asking X6-88 for a personal favor that humbled her to no end. Her face wasn't going to allow lack of emotion. "Since you're here… I was wondering if… if you'd help me."

She could feel his eyes watching her, though she couldn't see them. He was always wearing those darn sunglasses. And his mouth only ever moved when he spoke or scowled. Fortunately, X6-88's brow went up to indicate that he was listening and awaiting an explanation.

"I'll explain if you follow me," she told him and turned to scurry off. However, immediately she turned on her heels and hurriedly added, "But you don't have to. I set out to do this by myself. It's kind of a… grim task." Then she ran off.

Nora knew exactly where she was going and she didn't wait to see if X6 was going to follow. She went through Vault 111's generator room and made her way into one of the cryogenic rooms down another hall. She stopped running when she got to the cryogenic pods.

It was cold, as cold as a walk-in freezer. She held her arms close to her and counted her steps as she walked down the line of pods, avoiding the ghostly faces showing through each one.

 _Pod C6. Down the hall near the end_ , she grievously remembered.

When she reached Pod C6, she stopped. That day, when she was permanently released from her frozen slumber, Nora had kept Pod C6 closed. She hadn't needed to open it to know that the man inside—the man she loved—was dead. She hadn't needed the computer in the corner to tell her that she was the only survivor—the Sole Survivor. Nora had known by look on his face, through the icy, round window that Nate was… gone.

Not only then, but Nora had relived the memory of Nate being shot more than once—too many times. Besides actually living in the moment—which seemed more recent than it was—Nora relived the moment at the Memory Den when she tried one of Irma's memory loungers without understanding what it would actually do.

But the second time… The second time was the most memorable, because it had been from Kellogg's point of view—the man who shot Nate. She watched her husband get shot up-close—she'd even tried blocking the bullet, but… it was only a memory. Nate's death was not something that could be stopped. Nor the kidnapping of baby Shaun.

And Nate's face was frozen in that moment of pain, panic, and death. Forever. As if he was going to eternally suffer. Unless… Nora did something about it. No, she couldn't save him—she'd never be able to undo what Kellogg had done. But she could, at least, dignify Nate's body.

X6 caught up with her as Nora was pulling the pod's access lever. She wasn't even sure if it would open and she exclaimed, "Come on, come on, come on!" until it released and opened.

A new burst of cold hit Nora as it opened and she gasped, putting her hand over mouth as she took fullness of Nate's death in, yet again. Maybe for the last time—hopefully for the last time.

This time, though, she had no tears to shed. Nora hugged herself tighter as she looked at Nate's icy torment. "So cold," she said, shivering. Then she reached a trembling hand up to Nate's frozen cheek and caressed it. "So cold. And defiled by ice."

X6-88 stood and watched her, silently.

Nora closed her eyes and pulled her hand away, back to hugging herself. She turned away and took a few steps toward the open pod in which she'd been in. For a few seconds, she just stood there, eyes closed and brooding. Recounting memories of a different time.

Finally, X6-88 stepped closer and modestly said, "My condolences."

Nora had almost forgotten that X6-88 was there, until he spoke. Her eyes blinked open, and she looked at the Courser. She painstakingly asked, "Will you help me cremate his body?"

X6 looked from her to Nate's body. "Will cremating the body help you feel better?"

"Yes," she softly hissed. "I can't stand to see him frozen as he is. Stuck in a moment of… torment. He didn't deserve to be—" she halted herself, feeling rage coming on. "It doesn't matter. Burning his body is the best way I can think of to honor him. It's the best way… To ease my own torment of how his death happened."

"Then I will help you," X6-88 agreed.

* * *

Hours later, the two of them stood outside Vault 111 on the surface, watching Nate's body disappear into fire. It was dawn of the next day—Nora thought it was the perfect beginning of a new day. A new beginning, but so much more. It was a farewell to Nora's old life. A farewell to Nate. And with this farewell to Nate, Nora felt there was more room for her in Wasteland. More room for her to breathe and adapt.

"You know," she said to X6, never taking her eyes off the pyre they had made. "For the longest time I thought of how easily it could have been me who grabbed Shaun, and thus get shot by Kellogg. What would it have been like if Nate was the one who survived? What choices would he have made? I think it was one of the things that tormented me. I was so afraid of making the wrong choices, because he wasn't there to make them with me. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wouldn't have mattered. The outcome would be the same. The world would still be a wasteland. People would still be killing each other. There'd be no way to go back to how it was."

She sighed, leaned into X6, and put her head on his shoulder. "That's the bigger picture. The world is going to be terrible no matter what. No matter who you save, who you kill, the world won't change. Because it's full of individuals. Maybe far less than before. But that doesn't change that everyone thinks for themselves. No one is innocent of that."

X6 lifted one of his gloved hands and stared at it, not saying anything. But his face looked pained.

"What is it, X6?" she asked, pulling her head away. "Is there something wrong?"

"I… feel… that you're not completely right," he said with shock and awareness etched on his face.

* * *

 **AN:** Thank you for all the comments, fellow Fallout fans. This chapter is for all the fans who played through Fallout 4 as Nate. Because I do feel that if you're roleplaying your way through the game, Nate would choose much differently than Nora would. Nate is military. Nora is a lawyer. I just felt the difference was important somehow.


	10. The Man Behind Those Darn Sunglasses

**The Man Behind Those Darn Sunglasses**

"Tell me," Nora urged X6-88. "I want to know why you think I'm wrong. What are you feeling?"

He took a step back, but gently put his hands on Nora's arms and guided her into a position so that they would be properly facing each other. Then X6-88 lifted one of Nora's hands so that it was stretched out, ready to receive something. With the hand he'd barely been using, he carefully placed that something in her palm.

It was a ring—Nate's wedding band. Nora stared at it with disbelief, before melancholy sunk in. She hadn't left it on with Nate's body on purpose. It was just that Nora hadn't been the one to remember to pull it off and keep it. Why didn't she think to retrieve it?

"It matters greatly that you were the one that survived, and not your spouse," X6-88 spoke as she contemplated the ring. "You may not matter to the world. But you matter to those who you've had contact with. Whether it was by choice or not." He closed Nora's hand over Nate's ring. "It matters to me that you were the one who survived. I don't think it would have the same effect if it was Nate who I was handing _your_ ring to."

She smiled and blushed. But it only lasted a few seconds before Nora was gloomy again. She realized she wanted to kiss X6—just a little kiss, one that would show her appreciation.

But not now. Not next to the pyre her husband's body was burning on, and while she held her dead husband's ring, clutched in her hand. No matter how short of a kiss or simple one it would be, Nora would not do it here.

So she pocketed the ring and turned back to the pyre. She did nothing and said nothing. And X6-88 quietly stood there with her. She was sure her synth friend would stand there with her for as long as she needed him to. Or leave if she asked him to.

Instead, Nora briefly left X6's side saying, "I'll be right back." She went and found a stick not too far away that she returned with in hand. Then she sat down, cross-legged in front of the pyre as if it was a campfire. She started poking the ground with the stick in an anxious rhythm. "Sorry, I just needed something to twiddle with. Everything's been happening all at once, and I just need… time to sit and think." She poked the ground a few more times before she asked X6, "Do you mind sitting with me," without looking up at him. He was watching her, but making no open judgments about her anxious behavior.

"It may be best that we head back to the Institute soon," he finally told her. "The reason I went searching for you is because Dr. Volkert wanted to speak to you about Father's condition. It is worsening, and though Father wishes his needs to remain confidential to all but Dr. Volkert, Dr. Volkert feels there is still something vital which you need to know."

Nora continued to poke the ground with what seemed to be indifference, but soon she replied, "I understand. But he will have to wait. I need a plan, and I could really use your help. May I ask you some questions?"

It took a long moment, but X6-88 eventually took off his Courser coat, threw it aside, and sat next to Nora, mimicking her posture. She let silence pass for a little while.

"Father doesn't have much time left," she bluntly stated after she started doodling in the dirt with the stick. "Is that why I matter to you, X6, because you know he's dying and you think I'm the Institute's best shot at not falling apart when he's gone?"

"You _are_ the Institute's best shot at not falling apart," he strongly responded.

"Is that the only reason I matter to you?"

"You want an emotional response," he almost sounded humored. "Very well. Though, you matter to me because of the role you must play with the Institute, you also matter to _me_ because you are my friend." Nora stopped twiddling with the stick to look at him and listen. "There are moments I worry about you when I am not with you. When you left by yourself to eliminate the Railroad, I was worried. I volunteered to retrieve you for Doctor Volkert, because… I was worried."

"Just so you know…" A small smile formed on her lips. "You don't have to reply to any of my questions sentimentally," she informed him. "Not if it makes you uncomfortable. But it is incredibly warming to know that you think of me as a friend. And you know I think of you as the same. And as of today, you are the most important person to me in the world."

"I feel the same about you," he declared. But he declared it so dully, as if it wasn't as big of a deal as it was, that Nora laughed.

"That wasn't sarcasm," he countered.

"I know, I know," Nora said through more laughing. "You're just… so adorable when you say something so earnestly, but what you say is... so heartwarming."

"I'm uncomfortable now," X6-88 stated; and Nora had to bite her lip to keep from laughing again. She turned and doodled some more, until the moment eventually passed.

There was easy silence until Nora cautiously said, "I made a promise to someone that I would free all the synths in the Institute. I intend to keep that promise."

X6-88 was staring at her with surprise, and she stopped twiddling to gaze back at him. "You are included in that promise, X6. You are, after all, a synth. The other Railroad Agents may not agree, or even understand, but I want to free you and the other Coursers. Will you help me?"

She watched X6's face, keenly, for any kind of reaction. When he had yet to move, or reply, Nora had the sudden urge to remove those darn sunglasses of his. She tossed her twiddle-stick and scooted closer to him.

X6-88 suddenly pinched his brow. His breathing became uneven, which seemed impossible for the man that always stayed level headed. Nora slowly reached her hands out, stopping midway to see if X6 would stop her in some way. He did nothing, so she gently, as if they were extra fragile, removed X6-88's sunglasses. After folding them, she set them aside.

With determination to see and understand X6-88's thoughts, Nora gazed at X6-88. She immediately tensed. Her chest tightened; breathing became… difficult.

Because X6-88's eyes were… astonishingly focused. As intense as fine charcoal against white canvas. They were serendipitous specks on a lifeless, empty horizon. Or the inky dot of where a pen first makes contact with paper.

His eyes were… the most determined eyes she'd ever seen. And they were looking at her with an intensity that hurt. Hurt because his determination had been shaken. And _he_ was shaking.

"Oh, X6," Nora guiltily cried. "I'm… I'm sorry." And she leaned into him with an embrace almost as forceful as an attack that sent him backwards. "I don't know what to do," she gasped and clung to his chest, where she had fallen. "I don't know what to do," she said again. Emptiness came to her. She felt empty. But for the first time in a long time, she wasn't alone in her emptiness. It was an emptiness that felt bearable.

She whispered into him, "If you tell me to go back to the Institute with you, I will. And they'll be no treachery from me ever again. I'll be loyal to the Institute until the day I die."

X6-88 sat up, bringing Nora up with him. He positioned her so that her legs were curled up to her side and she could remain leaning into one side of him as they faced each other. Her left arm was around his waist; her right arm he moved to his left shoulder. He had both his arms around her waist.

Then he brushed the hair out of her face, before he leaned his forehead to her forehead and cradled her. Nora instinctually brought a hand to his cheek. He placed a hand on her chin. They stared at one another, and Nora felt warm but weightless.

Thereupon, X6-88 whispered, "It's too late. If anyone at the Institute found out about… _this_." He inched their faces closer so that their noses touched and they could breathe each other in. "I would be recalled, indefinitely."

He smelled of clean air and leather. Nora's lips trembled to taste him as well, but she vexingly controlled herself. She felt that if they kissed—if he _dared_ kiss her, here and now—her insides would go off like an atom bomb, losing herself completely to the man behind those darn sunglasses.

"We need to stop," X6-88 calmly told her seconds later.

She closed her eyes and an uncontrollable whimper escaped her chest in protest.

"Besides the fact that we are sitting next to the pyre we burned your spouse on," he expressed exactly what was screaming in the back of Nora's mind. "Your friend is watching us."

Nora's eyes snapped open. "Deacon," she hissed and aggressively pulled away from X6. She twisted herself in a panic to get up, thinking, _"Fuck. What is Deacon going to think of me?"_

Tossing her head and darting her eyes, she spotted him. There Deacon was, leaning on the fencing a distance away, with his arms crossed, and wearing his minuteman get-up—and his sunglasses. Nora wanted to run, but…

 _X6…_

She picked up X6-88's Courser coat and waited for him to be standing before handing it to him. "Stay here," she said. "I have some explaining to do to my friend over there."

* * *

 **AN:** Why can't she just decide? For realsies. Institute or Railroad?... Come on! It's not that hard of a choice. It's only for the sake of the Commonwealth. It's obvious which one she needs to go with.

Hope you liked the chapter, X6-88 fans! ;P


	11. Run For the Hills

**Run For the Hills**

Deacon. There was an interesting man. A man who was in no way a stranger to the terribleness of the wasteland world and way of life in it. And even in knowing the terribleness, he could still put on a smile as easy as a disguise and without flinching. There was a spark of life in him that never went out, though the man never dillydallied, anywhere. He never stopped to smell the radioactive roses, because he was always on the move or one step ahead.

He was also a walking encyclopedia. Sometimes, when Nora had traveled with Deacon doing Railroad business, Deacon would talk about the pre-war days as if he'd been there. He'd even familiarized himself with literature, art, and culture from her time so he could quote it, or point it out. He loved talking about antiques and had once gone into a long explanation of the difference between old-world maps versus pre-war maps. _"Which now could be considered old-world, too, technically,"_ he'd said.

It was as if Deacon knew—somehow knew—that before the bombs, life was better. Greener. Livelier. As if he understood the peace that came with sitting under a lush green tree on a sunny spring day. Or what it was like to go into the city for the soda shop and drink a chocolate malt while listening to the jukebox.

Talking to Deacon sometimes made Nora desperately homesick for the past. And for Codsworth. Because when she would get excited with Deacon about something pre-war, she would suddenly bring up a memory. With Codsworth, who had actually been there 200 years ago, the robot could reciprocate. With Deacon… he listened to her too carefully. He hung on to Nora's words like she was one of the antiques he admired. It stung. It slowly made her bitter toward him. The monster inside her was ever growing.

That was when she started travelling with Deacon less. The man was poetic, classy, and smart. He was a master of disguise. Could weave a story as good as gold. And had an excellent sense of humor. But when he was with her, Nora couldn't stop thinking about what she didn't have any more.

So Nora abandoned him because she didn't want to hurt his feelings—she didn't want the monster that she was becoming to lash out at him for being… who he was. That moment, when Deacon snuck up on her as she watched the Brotherhood of Steel attack Old North Church, that was the first time she had seen him in weeks. She hadn't realized how much she had missed him.

* * *

"You look a little scared," Deacon remarked as Nora came up to him. "Maybe worried that I caught you with your pants down, hmm?"

 _Levity_ , Nora recalled something that Shaun—Father—had said to her when she entered the Institute for the first time. After she had made the comment that all they needed (to complete the madness) was the teacups and a mad hatter, Shaun was happy to see that Nora was handling the trauma with humor. He said it meant she adapted quickly to stressful situations. She thought it had been an understatement.

"I thought you'd be upset," Nora admitted, feeling relieved that Deacon wasn't angry.

"Upset?! Hell no," Deacon immediately proclaimed. "If that's who I think it is over there, I'm not upset at you; I'm scared for you." Nora stared at him in wonder, waiting for an explanation. "Besides," he didn't give one, and chose to prattle. "This is the best intel I've ever gotten on you. I can use this as leverage. Maybe I can blackmail you into coming back to work for the Railroad."

"I didn't abandon the Railroad, Deacon!" She hadn't, she believed. She believed it was Deacon she had abandoned. And she had remorse over it.

"No, you were just taking your sweet time so you could make gaga eyes at Mr. X over there. It's fine, really. Hey, in your absence, I had to make some decisions that were… iffy. I made Drummer Boy second in command. He's a rookie, Nora, and he's running the show while I track down our all-star."

"At least Drummer Boy seems capable," she wanted to be encouraging about the choice.

"He's the only one who would step up to do it," Deacon went informative. "Everyone else thinks this is the end of the line. Some have already left, for good. And with HQ pretty much out for the count because it's in shambles, it won't be long before other safehouses fall apart, too."

"It's not over," Nora replied with unwarranted stubbornness. "There are still synths that need our help."

"Clearly," Deacon said with a smirk, glancing over at where X6-88 patiently stood. He was expecting a defensive remark returned by Nora, but she was, instead, blankly staring at Deacon with wide eyes. "Uh-oh," he immediately expressed. "Boss, I've seen that look before. You have an idea. Probably a maniacally ingenious idea. Let's hear it."

"We need people," she murmured. "If the Railroad wants to stay intact, we'll need more people."

"An obvious deduction, but please continue."

"This might sound crazy," she started. "But… What if we had Coursers helping us?"

Deacon cracked a smile and pretended to be enthusiastic about the idea. "That's so crazy it might just work. Why didn't I think of that? Oh wait," he dismally stopped pretending. "Now I remember… because it's not an option. Coursers are loyal to the Institute. It _can_ happen; they can go rogue. It doesn't happen often. In the past, the Railroad has helped a Courser or two escape the evil clutches of the Institute. It usually doesn't end nicely."

"Wait… the Railroad has helped Coursers escape?"

"The last one was a long time ago," Deacon shared. "When a Courser goes rogue… all hell breaks loose. The Institute considers a rogue Courser a high priority for take-backsies." He was in his storytelling mode, and he stood a little straighter offering hand motions and gestures to explain. "That last Courser the Railroad helped, we got him out of the Commonwealth into the Capitol Wasteland, and the Institute sent the _head_ of their SRB to retrieve him. For the Institute, Boss, that's a big deal. If you don't already know: Those lab-coat bastards hate leaving their hole in the ground.

"We haven't heard anything of the Courser's fate since. Brotherhood of Steel activity is heavy in the Capital Wasteland, which makes it difficult for the Railroad to operate there. Once a package crosses the border, we don't usually check up on them." With a shrug, he finished up with, "So yeah… The Railroad having an army of Courser agents would be nice, but the Institute would probably rather blow up the surface again than let their Coursers run free."

"Shit," Nora replied, glancing over at the ever patient X6-88. She had had no idea that the Institute would be so unforgiving on a Courser that wanted to be free. "So it was a Courser that Dr. Zimmer went to retrieve."

"That's the one," Deacon confirmed. "And now you know why I'm scared for you and your little Courser romance you've started up."

"It's too late," she repeated X6-88's words to her. "I didn't realize what it meant for him… What he would lose, if he… Uck, I've been acting like a stupid child. A love sick teenager! How could I be so naïve?"

"Hey, we're all allowed our slip-ups," Deacon lazily consoled her. "It's the consequences you have to worry about. And… " he went all sympathetic. "I don't blame you. Mr. X does have killer-eyes. Because he's a killer… "

"Shut up!" Nora scolded, because he had prompted her to. "Don't make me mention the countless massacres _we've_ been through together. We're killers, too."

"So tell me," he kept going, evidently getting the reaction he had wanted out of her. "I'm curious. What was it that brought this… promising romance along? Was _it_ the cold-killer look, or maybe he's so boring that it's refreshing compared to your otherwise crazy, adventurous life?"

Nora grunted and pulled at her hair. "Do you know how frustrating you can be?"

"Oh, yeah." He, of course, wasn't going to deny it. "I'm so frustrating that I frustrate myself all the time. I frustrate myself so much… I don't have hair anymore. Maybe the same will happen to you."

Nora started pacing in frustration. "We need a plan, Deacon," she felt like she needed to remind him, when she was really reminding herself. "We need Railroad Agents, and we need a plan."

"Your friend, Scribe Haylen was asking where you went," he randomly replied. "Told her I'd be right back, hopefully with you in tow. She said she understood; you have a habit of disappearing. For now I have Tinker Tom distracting her, keeping her busy until she realizes she's not allowed to leave. Ever. She's our prisoner."

"What if she helps us?" Nora suddenly proposed, not stopping her pacing.

"Great," he said as if it was a fact. "How?"

"I don't know, Deacon. I'm just throwing ideas out in the big blue yonder like bait and seeing if you think any of them look tasty."

"I don't think you get it," he said starkly, throwing his hands up and then pointing at her. "I'm depending on you to come up with all the ideas and go through with them, Nora. You're the boss. Really. Truly— _the Boss_. You get to call the shots. _You_ are the leader of the Railroad. How else do you want me to say it?"

"What about you?" she quickly inquired, her pacing never stopping, but getting faster.

"I'm _not_ a leader," he firmly expressed. "But I can pretend to be one so long as there's someone else calling the shots. That's you. I will do anything you tell me to do, so long as we're on the same page."

Nora froze, mid-step. Then put her foot down as she clamped her mouth shut. "Oh," she said after assimilating his words.

 _I am the Institute's future Director. I am the Leader of the Railroad. I am both? Can I lead both? Is that possible? Could I run the Institute while helping the synths that want to leave the Institute? It would have to be a very, very careful operation. Secretive, more so than any other Railroad operation. Could I pull it off?_

 _I suppose there's only one way of finding out…_

"I accept," Nora quietly declared. "I will lead the Railroad."

"Great," Deacon happily repeated. "Now will you tell me what to do? I've been bored."

Nora rolled her eyes, but then looked up at the morning sky, in thought.

 _So… I have to pick up the pieces of HQ and put it back together._

Keeping HQ at the old north church was out of the question, she knew. It had already been discovered by the Brotherhood of Steel. Fortunately, it seemed the Brotherhood was now giving the Railroad time to lick its wounds. An error in Maxson's judgment, Nora believed, but a fortuitous error for the Railroad.

 _What would be a good place to regroup and reestablish Railroad HQ? Far away from the Brotherhood's operations?_

Nora looked down at the ground, tracing her steps throughout the Commonwealth. It took a moment, but she realized she was standing on her answer. Her eyes went to the elevator that went to Vault 111. "This place… " she thought out loud. "We need a new HQ. One that's safer. I think… Vault 111 is that place."

Deacon smoothed his face, thinking. His chin was scruffier than usual; he probably hadn't shaved in the last two days. "Are you sure?" he finally questioned. "I mean, I know this place has… bad memories for you."

"It just makes sense," she had already come to the decision. "It's not close to the city, but it's well protected. The only way in and out is with a Pip-Boy. It's right up the hill from Sanctuary Hills. It would be easy to set up a safehouse there."

"And you don't think that's too dangerous for those who've already settled in Sanctuary Hills? They might become casualties of something they never wanted to be a part of."

She disregarded the concern and said, "Sanctuary Hills is safeguarded by the Minute Men. I lead the Minute Men."

"Ah yes, intel I gave you," Deacon wise-assed, before he sincerely conferred, "Even with the Minute Men's protection, that won't stop other parties from taking an interest in our activities so close to Sanctuary Hills. Sanctuary Hills could become a target of the Institute—"

"The Institute won't touch Sanctuary Hills," Nora intercepted with fanatical force. "If they do, it would be the last thing they ever did. It would be a sure-fire way to piss _me_ off. And I've been missing out on a personal vendetta ever since I blew up Kellogg."

"Whoa-ho-ho-oh," a humored Deacon admired. "I guess we found your sore spot." Then he sighed, revealing tiredness. "If you're sure, I'll start sending agents to Sanctuary Hills. We'll need a new code phrase. Those who don't know it can't be trusted with any new intel."

"Did you see that Super mutant rampage the other day?" she smartly answered.

"Umm… do you mean the one that happened as the Brother of Steel tried to attack us—" He halted his own question and shook his head, understanding. "Yeah, I ran for the hills."

"Yes, yes you did," Nora approved. "Now go tell everyone else to run for the hills, too. I'll meet you back in Sanctuary as soon as I take care of some side business."

"Yes, ma'am!" He saluted, but Nora wasn't going to tell him that Minute Men didn't salute.

A grin perked up his face. The next thing she knew, he was hugging her. "Thanks," he warmly voiced. "I mean… for not abandoning the Railroad-thing. For not abandoning me... I really didn't want to go back to... You know, the Raider life." He finished the hug that she'd happily returned, saying, "I did have some new names picked out, though. What do think about: Sam the Slugger? I'd go around with a _swatter_ ," he said it like Moe Cronin in Diamond City, "smashing everything in my path. And I'd walk day and night in a straight line, never deviating. Never…" he said in a spooky voice.

"Get out of here," she pushed him. "You're making me change my mind. Because I'd so want to see that." Nora watched him go, smiling.

Not too long after, X6 was standing next to her.

"Before you say anything," she spoke first. "I'm not betraying the Institute on this one. I'm… improving the Institute. The SRB needs some changes. And this is how it's going to start."

"I wasn't going to say anything," X6-88 responded.

"Good," she mischievously smiled back at him. "Because if I'm going to have it my way, we have a lot of work to get done at the Institute. But first… I need to convince a certain man he's needed. I'll be going to Listening Post Bravo. Then, I promise I'll return to the Institute. And there _will be_ changes."


	12. A Fighting Chance with Missile Danse

**A Fighting Chance with Missile Danse**

X6-88 had insisted on coming with her, but Nora ordered him to return to the Institute. And because there were certain feelings between the two of them, he followed the order. Shame on Nora for using those feelings to her advantage, but she couldn't have X6 with her if she was going to convince Danse of anything. She was already going to have to encroach on a lot of unsaid feelings with Danse, and having an Institute lackey by her side would make her look like... the traitor that she was.

Nora approached Listening Post Bravo, unsuspecting. It was when she heard the beeping of a proximity mine that she realized that it probably wasn't the best idea to come knocking on Danse's door without being prepared for a fight. He most positively would have learned of Nora's betrayal to the Brotherhood of Steel. She quickly backed away to avoid the explosion of the mine; then she scanned the ground for any more mines. After getting a visual on several, she started working her way around them.

Speakers somewhere on the bunker, blared, "Don't take one step closer, or you'll be dealing with more than just live mines. I'll activate the turrets I've got set up."

 _At least Danse's stubbornness isn't paired with foolish overconfidence_ , Nora mentally noted. _He knows it will take more than a few mines to stop me_. "Well, you've certainly been busy building up your defenses," she yelled; she was going to play innocent. "But what's the deal, Danse? It's me, _Nora_. This isn't a very warm welcome."

"You know what you did," the speakers coldly boomed.

"Oh, come on!" she feigned more innocence. "All I want is to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," Danse spoke with brutality that Nora probably deserved.

"How could you know that without talking to me first?" she asked as she slowly started walking towards the bunker, checking for mines as she went.

"I'm not going to talk to a traitor," he stated, but Nora wasn't convinced.

"Traitor?!" she shouted with phony disbelief. "That's not fair! I saved your life!" She stopped approaching, because she'd come to a spot where there were too many proximity mines too close for comfort.

"And then immediately betrayed your other brothers and sisters," Danse spoke the truth, and Nora winced. She wasn't ready just yet, not for the truth she came to face. Nora wanted to be face to face with the man she most betrayed before she had to think about the whole truth.

"I only wish I could help them catch you and… And… "

"And what, Danse?" He couldn't possibly be _that_ angry with her. "I know you're not telling me that you want me dead. After everything I did for you?!"

"It's evident now that it wasn't for me," he said so assuredly. "It was because I'm a synth. You care more about free-thinking machines than you do for humankind. I'm sure your Railroad is proud of you."

Nora was irritated by the stupid assumption. "What? You think I went to them and bragged about how I saved you so they'd let me in?!"

"It's crossed my mind," he spat into the microphone.

"That's bullshit, Danse, and you know it," she grumbled, starting to foresee how forceful she was going to have to get with Danse.

"I'm not letting you in," he finalized the first thing she saw coming. "And we're done _'talking'_."

"Danse, stop this," she said, taking a mental step back. She would try it peaceful one last try. "Making me your enemy is unreasonable. I'm not here to fight you. I just want to talk."

There was no answer.

"Don't make me come in there!"

The laser turrets switched on.

"Stubborn asshole," Nora cursed as she promptly used her assault rifle to blow the closest turret up in one shot. "I've been through enough in the last three days." She shot the next one and destroyed it in two shots, sustaining little injury. "I'm in no mood to beg," she grumbled making a giant leap over the mines in her way. There were more, but she managed to dance her way around them.

A third turret came to life as she got closer to the bunker. It shot a missile and Nora was forced to dodge, cover, and roll as a chain reaction of explosions happened.

"Did you just shoot a missile at me?!" she irately laughed after several explosions. "Fuckin' steelfucker! When I get in there, I'm going to kick your ass, Danse. Do you hear me?"

The assault rifle was a goner. She had lost it in dodging the missile and it was now among the scattered mines; there was no going back for it with the missile turret already reloading; she already had to run and dodge again. By the third missile, she had the crazy idea of picking up an activated proximity mine and throwing it at the turret. With another leap, she purposely landed on one that beeped awake. She swiped it, then speedily Frisbee-ed it at the turret.

All that time playing disc golf with her parents had finally paid off, because a satisfying explosion destroyed the target. Nora whooped, "Fuck you!"

After that, there were no further problems getting to the observably new and solid steel door of the bunker—Danse really had been busy. And she wasn't at all surprised that the door was locked. Unfortunately, she didn't have a single bobby pin on her to fiddle with it.

Going in through the window wasn't an option because Danse had properly boarded it up. Or maybe it was option. Nora could easily break through the boards. But the effort suddenly seemed worthless, because she thought of a better idea. Why not show Danse what she was capable of? She hadn't seen him since before she had the adamantium grafted to her skeleton. Why not scare the shit out of him by breaking down the door?

Nora hadn't tried anything like that before, because Dr. Volkert had expressed that an adamantium skeleton did not mean she should try using strength on everything. It protected her limbs, but it would not prevent bruising or extensive nerve damage.

 _Nothing a few stimpaks won't fix_ , Nora thought.

It would hurt, she knew. But she wanted to give it a try. She was going to kick the goddamn door in. And it would be funny and ironic, because Danse had once told her that she'd have to get used to the Brotherhood of Steel's way of kicking down doors, and not diplomacy.

She got into a secure position with space between her and the door for momentum. Then she took a deep breath and… kicked.

The door flew off its hinges and crashed into the wall far behind it. A vibration went through Nora from her toes to her head that sent needles through her, but after a few seconds of feeling tingly and dizzy. She was fine.

Or least she thought she was, but instead of barging into the room with pride and determination, she took two steps and fell on her knees, cringing.

"That hurt more than I thought it would," she groaned. Her stomach was suddenly twitching. "Oh god," she held her mouth. "I think I gave myself a concussion through my foot." After several gags, a metal bucket appeared in her face. Just in time, too, because she spewed everything that was in her stomach.

* * *

An hour later, Nora was sitting against the wall with an old but wet dishrag on her forehead. Danse crouched next to her and set a straw pillow on her lap. "For your back," he said.

"Thank you," Nora quietly relayed, and made herself comfortable with it against the wall. Danse watched her with his soldierly face.

"That was quite the entrance you made," he said, betraying no emotion.

"Impressed?" Nora chuckled. "I was impressed that you actually turned those turrets on me."

Danse scoffed and glanced down with a hinting glower. "I was hoping you'd give up and leave."

"Nah," Nora said leaning her head against the wall. "Apparently I can be just as stubborn as you."

He got up, but only to move to sit against the wall next to her. "Can't believe I thought you'd make a good soldier," he didn't necessarily say to her. "You're unpredictable and brash."

"I don't think you ever really thought I'd make a good soldier," she told him. "I think you just knew… that I could accomplish what Maxson needed accomplished. But… I guess I couldn't, could I? Too bad, really. It would be fun to have a giant killer-robot roaming the Commonwealth, killing things with an arsenal of nukes."

"I'm surprised your smart mouth hasn't gotten you killed," Danse bitterly replied.

"Still alive," Nora said cheerfully with a lightheaded smile. "And… getting more and more sarcastic by the day. Maybe sarcasm just comes with old age; and being over 200 means I'm really, really sarcastic."

A hint of a smile was on Danse's lips, but he looked away, perhaps so Nora wouldn't see it.

"It's nice to see you outside your power armor," Nora confessed. "It helps one remember there's a… Well, a man underneath it." She had almost said human, but that would have been a mistake. She could see Danse getting upset over a simple term that avoided the truth. " _A man"_ seemed more appropriate, she hoped. And she hoped Danse would think so, too.

"I'm working on collecting a new set of power armor," Danse said officially, ignoring Nora's comment all together. "It won't be as good as my Brotherhood of Steel armor, but I have to make do with what I can find."

Nora frowned, wanting to try comforting him again, but knowing that he probably wouldn't accept any kind of comfort. "Maxson gave me your power armor after… " she started. She didn't finish. "I still have it, if you want it."

Danse's face hardened and his fists balled. He responded with an authoritative, "It would be disrespectful for either of us to wear it. We are both traitors."

"I thought I'd offer anyway," she murmured with gloom and gazed away to hide her disappointment.

There was a long awkward silence now, and it was going to be broken by Nora. She had so much left unsaid to Danse, and it was eating her up. Nora hated being on bad terms with him. He was once her comrade and friend. Her betrayal to the Brotherhood of Steel, she had known, changed that.

With a deep breath, Nora eagerly delved into an explanation of…

"That day I left you here, I had every intention of continuing my time with the Brotherhood of Steel because you wanted me to," she sharply announced. He heaved in resentment, but remained silent. It was the anticipated start of facing why Nora had come back. Of facing the truth.

"It wasn't until I was confronted by Dr. Li that I had… doubts, about what the Brotherhood of Steel was doing. Dr. Li was… She was angry. I had convinced her to return to the Brotherhood and help, but she learned that Maxson was going to blow up the Institute, and she believed that I had tricked her. She told me she never would have agreed to come back to the Brotherhood had she'd known what Maxson was planning. I had to explain to her that I didn't know either—I was only collecting parts for Liberty Prime and following orders.

Danse wasn't impressed and maintained a flat glower across his face.

"But when I learned… When she told me that Maxson didn't just want to battle the Institute, that we were going to eliminate it utterly, I second guessed my desire to help the Brotherhood of Steel. I soon ended up lying to Maxson; I told him I needed a few days to recover from—what everyone else thought had been your execution. Instead… I went to the Institute—"

"How did you think the battle with the Institute was going to end?" Danse angrily interrupted. "War is war. It never changes."

Nora froze because every hair on her body stood up. "War never changes," she repeated, but her voice cracked. _War never changes._ And she thought for a moment, of Nate, ignoring Danse who had started lecturing her about a soldier's duty.

"But I'm not a soldier," she said when he paused. "Nate was a soldier. He was… " _the soldier, not me._

It shocked Nora that she finally understood why X6-88 had told her that it mattered that she was the one who survived, and not Nate. She pulled Nate's ring out of her pocket. Danse was speechless, only regarding her with remote curiosity.

"My mistake," Nora eventually began, staring at the ring. "Was thinking that I had to be like Nate to solve my problems. He was the soldier. He could follow orders without question. He could disregard doubts to do what had to be done. I was wrong to think I could fix everything the same way. And… I know it feels like I lied to you, Danse."

He opened his mouth to respond, but Nora asserted, "Please, just listen. I need to tell you."

Nora saw him bite his bottom gum to keep from speaking and she took that as the okay to continue.

"When the Prydwyn first arrived, I had lost so much already. I needed direction. It was your voice I heard on my Pip-Boy that sent me looking for the Brotherhood of Steel, remembering your offer to enlist. From then, as I worked with you, Haylen, and Rhys, I forgot all my problems. I started believing The Brotherhood of Steel could solve all my problems. _You_ made me feel that the Brotherhood of Steel would solve the world's problems. You inspired me, Danse. And I looked up to you.

Danse looked saddened by the praise, but Nora kept going.

"So to impress you, I told myself I could be a soldier like Nate. Enlist in the Brotherhood of Steel. Solve the world's problems the way he would." It was her turn to be sorry for the truth and she hung her head. "Then it all fell apart… "

Neither of them, apparently, wanted to talk about Danse being a synth. Yet it was Danse who professed, "I understand. You discovered the one who was encouraging you and who you looked up to wasn't the man he was supposed to be."

Nora frowned but nodded, closing her hand over Nate's ring. "When I left the Brotherhood of Steel, I thought about coming back to see you," she told him, "instead of going straight to the Institute. But I didn't want you blaming yourself for my choice. If I was going to betray the Brotherhood of Steel, I wanted it to be my choice and my choice alone."

With a sigh, she pocketed the ring and breathed, "It was the first choice I had made that was my own since joining the Brotherhood of Steel."

"And do you feel it was the right choice?" Danse asked in honesty.

Somewhat comforted, because she'd gotten a lot off her chest, Nora smiled. "It doesn't matter," she replied. "It was my choice. Not yours. Not Maxson's. And not Nate's."

"Hmph," Danse expressed, considering.

Nora laid her head back on the wall again and closed her eyes. The quiet between them didn't seem so awkward now. She'd said a lot, though it may have been in a short amount of time. It was appropriate to give Danse time to think it over.

"So you went to Institute and now you're going to betray the Institute with the Railroad," Danse broke the silence. "Is it only a matter of time before you betray them, too?"

 _A cheap shot?_ She popped an eye open and pointed it at Danse. "Didn't think you were the type to insult with words. Then again… you did have some mean ones for Valentine."

"I'm being completely serious," he clarified. "Do you plan on betraying the Railroad?"

 _Ah, he's checking my integrity._ "Considering I'm now in charge of the Railroad, I don't know if that's possible."

"You're running the Railroad?!" he asked in astonishment.

"Why do you think I'm here, Danse?" She was now staring at him with her full attention.

"Are you trying…" he began in his authoritative voice. But then he paused and changed to a friendlier tone. "Nora, are you trying to recruit me into the Railroad?"

"I don't know," she sarcastically returned. "If I was, what would your answer be?"

"You're beyond brash!" he bellowed, getting up. "Why did I let you come in?"

"You didn't," Nora tossed back. "I broke the damn door down, remember? Just like you taught me to."

"I'm not joining the Railroad," he firmly established. "It would go against everything I stand for."

Nora got up, too. "And what do you stand for, Danse? You can't go back to the Brotherhood of Steel. They'd rather have you walk a plank right off the Prydwyn. Actually, no. They'd probably want something far worse to happen to you."

"I told you before I don't care that I'm banished. I'm sticking to the Brotherhood's ideals—"

No, this wasn't working. What could Nora say to get Danse to understand? "Haylen is with the Railroad," she unfairly lied. The way she'd said it could be interrupted in different ways, she knew.

"What?!" Danse barked in complete disbelief.

She took a menacing step toward him. If Haylen was the ticket to get Danse to understand, Nora was going to see how much he actually cared about Scribe Haylen. "I'm holding Haylen prisoner," she lied again, holding her ground. Besides, was it a lie? Haylen was more of a prisoner than she was _"with the Railroad"._

The next thing Nora saw was Danse's fist hitting her squarely in the face.

Oh, it hurt. He most definitely broke her nose and there was blood. Nora stood back now, clutching her nose and… She was laughing. She laughed really hard through the blood and pain. She was just so happy; she was happy for Danse. He didn't just care for Haylen. He really, really cared for her.

"Danse, you hit me!" Nora shouted with excitement.

Danse was also standing back staring wide-eyed, scared and confused.

"Ha, ha!" Nora kept laughing. "You hit me because you care! I found how I'm going to keep you from wallowing away in this bunker! You have to come see her—Haylen! She doesn't know you're alive. If I can't get you to see that being a synth isn't a crime, Haylen certainly will. Because she doesn't care that you're a synth. She cares that you're you! You're Danse the synth! And she doesn't care!"

"You're holding her prisoner, just so I'll come with you?" he said in repulsion.

"No!" she exclaimed. The laughing had stopped, but Nora was still crazily optimistic. "She's not a prisoner. I spared her life after the Brotherhood of Steel attacked Railroad HQ. Because she doesn't deserve to die because of Maxson's delusion that synths are abominations. Especially when she doesn't agree."

Nora leaned her head up and without flinching set her nose back in place. "Aaaah-owe, fuck!" she let the pain run through her afterwards, shaking her hands and stomping her feet. Her hands were covered in her own blood. And she started to gasp as she somewhat choked on the blood in her mouth and running down her throat. She spat some of the blood out, before finding the dishrag from earlier to clean herself up.

Danse was still standing back and watching. He didn't know what to do.

"Will you come with me?" Nora eventually asked. "I can't force you to. I just… I want you to see what you can accomplish if you're not tied down to the Brotherhood's… close-mindedness. You should at least see Haylen, so that… she knows you're alive. I want it to be your choice, though."

He ruminated for a moment, his eyes concentrated. "You're nothing like the Nora I knew," he finally replied.

She chuckled at that. "I know," she said seriously. "I'm unhinging, and I know it. But… I also think I know how to fix it. I have to face all the truths I've been ignoring." More softly she added, "You were numero uno on my list. I hurt you, and I wanted to ignore that I did. Then I realized… I need you, Danse."

She stepped back up to him and formally proposed, "I want you to help me run the Railroad. I think you can do some good for your fellow synths. Help me make the right choices so that they have a fighting chance… if it comes to that." Nora put a hand on Danse's shoulder. "This is the battle you fight up here," she took the same hand and tapped his head before placing back on his shoulder. "And it's also the battle that has to be fought out in the open. The other synths… they deserve a fighting chance, just like you. They have more of a chance with a man like you fighting for them." She squeezed his shoulder. "Be somebody for them. The other synths… they're your real brothers and sisters."

He stared down for a long time. A very long time. Nora nursed her nose as she waited, but never removed her hand from his shoulder.

Finally, Danse reached a hand up and slapped it onto Nora's hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it. "I'll go. For my brothers and sisters, I'll go."

Nora let out a breath she'd been holding onto and smiled. "You're my hero," she nasally, but proudly stated.


	13. Codename Assumé

**Codename "Assumé"**

Nora stood back alone, hugging herself as she admired her handiwork. Danse was in the distance hugging Haylen, and the two were having a happy reunion in Sanctuary Hills.

It was then that Deacon approached Nora with his arms crossed. He was wearing a greaser jacket and jeans, with his pompadour wig. He had a toothpick in his mouth.

"Nothing like a happy family reunion, eh, Deacon?" she sarcastically inquired as he took a spot next to her.

He opened his mouth, but Nora unfolded her arms, spun on him, and pointed a finger in his face. "No words," she said. "Because I know exactly what you're thinking. You want to know why I didn't consult you first, because we're supposed to be on the same page. Or… if I realize how dangerous it is to have Danse and Haylen here, together? How much attention will a Brotherhood of Steel Scribe and a Brotherhood of Steel ex-Paladin, who happens to be a synth, draw to our little operation we're trying to set up in Sanctuary Hills? Or how insane it is to have Danse help out the Railroad? Because you know that's why I brought him here! And you know I expect Haylen to be included in our plans! I see it in your eyes, Deacon—Yes, even behind those damn shades of yours. You think I'm being reckless."

"You're making an ass out of you and me," he said when Nora stopped talking and took her finger away. "We should make you're new codename Assume, but it should be said _Assum_ _é_. It has to have the accent on the e; makes it sound more exotic that way."

"So you're not going to tell me what you think of the Railroad's new poster child?" Nora patronizingly replied. "Danse is our replacement for Glory. His military training will be a big help."

"No, I wasn't going to say anything about that," Deacon purred. He was pretending to be a cool cat. "I was actually going to ask… " He pointed a finger at Nora's face, particularly her nose. "If Mr. Balls-of-Steel over there was the one who gave you the ugly nose. Because it looks positively pre-ghoulish."

Nora covered her nose and turned away in embarrassment. Then she crossed her arms like Deacon and retook a spot next to him. "Yes, he was the one who hit me. And you know what? It felt good. It felt good to be reminded that I'm not invincible, because I have been reckless lately."

Deacon rolled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. "You're right. Seems I can't leave you alone even for a second before you go and get yourself hurt—on purpose. Maybe next time… take me along. A reckless front needs a steady back to lean on when it wears itself out being reckless."

Nora looked away again, chewing on his words as he was chewing on his toothpick.

"Tinker Tom is eager to get into the vault," he stated. Deacon was getting exceedingly good at changing the topic when Nora started beating herself up over him being right. "He thinks we should get PAM set up down there as soon as possible."

"I'll open it," she replied with orderly conduct. "Then I have to return to the Institute."

"Ah, the one place I can't follow you," Deacon responded, biting down on his toothpick. "I do have something for you, however, to take with you." Conspiratorially, as if this was some kind of drug deal, he pulled a holotape out of his greaser jacket and held it out to Nora. "It's time you met Patriot. For years Patriot has been sending synths to the surface from the Institute, and we have gracefully helped those synths. Yet the Railroad has never had contact with Patriot. He doesn't know of the Railroad's existence despite our knowledge of his." As Nora took the holotape, Deacon explained, "This holotape will upload an encrypted message into the Institute's system for Patriot. If he sees it, he should respond. Once you've learned the identity of him and make formal contact, we may gain another ally. You'll have someone physically within the Institute who can help you."

"Another ally," Nora was heart-warmed at the thought. "Thank you, Deacon."

"Dez was going to give you this mission," he straightforwardly relayed. "She backed out when she was worried about your loyalty to the Railroad's cause. She thought that you'd been… _institutionalized_ , if you get my meaning. And if that was the case, she didn't want to risk putting Patriot in danger."

"I see," Nora spoke softly. "I should thank you, then, for trusting me as much as you do."

He spat his toothpick out and tried to hide an upset face, but was failing. "I've never doubted you were a synth sympathizer, Nora. I can look around and see what kind of company you keep. Valentine, Danse, X6-88. What I worry about is that you forget about everyone else. Your fellow humans.

He hung his head and expressed, "With Glory, I cut her some slack. She _was_ a synth. Human collateral damage was common when she went out on a mission. With you… " He peered back up and gazed at Nora. "I want you to be careful. Don't forget you're human. And humans need protecting, too. Once we've reestablished HQ, I want a Railroad that helps synths and humans."

Nora was almost shocked speechless. "I… I never thought I'd hear something like that from… _you_. Deacon. This serious side of you… it's serious. I'm surprised you haven't bugged out. Like I've been doing. Abandoning anyone I think I'll hurt."

"Yeah," he humoredly agreed. "We're both awful people. And _we're_ the ones trying to save the world."

"Yeah," Nora echoed, suddenly feeling confused. What was this feeling? It was beyond respect and appreciation. Beyond friendship. Hell, it felt beyond intimacy. She didn't want to reach out and kiss Deacon as she had with X6. No, she wanted to reach out and choke him for making her feel so silly. It was a feeling she really didn't understand, and not understanding was scary. Being scared, she wanted to run away.

But at the same time she didn't, because then she'd be abandoning Deacon, and not for the first time.

Why did she care so much? And was that also why Deacon hadn't bugged out yet?

Maybe they both wanted to run away, but if they did, then they'd be running away together. And if they ran away together, they'd both be abandoning everyone else. And they couldn't both abandon everyone else, because which one of them would then be there to protect everyone else?

Apparently she was having a miniature, silent panic attack over it, so she finally decided to stop standing next to Deacon like an idiot. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Anything else before I… skedaddle?" She gestured in the direction she'd be going with her thumbs.

"Well, a goodbye kiss would be nice," Deacon blurted, breaking the tension. Because there was in no way he was being serious.

Nora made a closed-mouth grin and withheld a laugh by biting her gum. As she started walking away she said, "Maybe next time, _mon beau ami_."

"I'll be waiting, _l'amour de ma vie,"_ he answered with a mischievous smile, and Nora finally broke out laughing. She hadn't seen that coming; where had Deacon learned French?

"Damn you," she mouthed back, before officially turning away to run off. _Flirtatious asshole,_ she thought, still smiling. He was always one step ahead of her.

She found Tinker Tom chatting Sturges up at the workshop area of Sanctuary Hills. That was something she never imagined seeing. Two great minds, but completely different, having a conversation. When she walked up to them, she couldn't even understand what they were talking about. And she tried to follow. She knew it had something to do with waves—some kind of waves. Were they talking about brain waves, maybe?

"What do you think, Nora?" Sturges asked as if she'd been following the entire conversation.

"Uh… " She wasn't going to dare have them start explaining. "I'm sure whatever it is, if you two work together, it'll work."

"Are you staying in Sanctuary Hills, then?" Sturges asked Tinker Tom.

"I'll be around," he nodded his assurance. "Hey lady, are you ready to do that thing we were going to go do?" Tinker Tom asked Nora.

"Yeah, I'll meet you up there," she told Tom. "I need to speak with our mutual friend here," she meant Sturges.

"All right, I'll get my tools and… the hardware." Nora knew he meant P.A.M. "Don't take too long though. I don't like being out in the open. _They_ could be watching, you know." Tinker Tom made his way to wherever his tools were, grumbling about Institute spies.

"The guy is nuts, but a genius," Sturges heartily let Nora know. "You must have something big planned if you have a guy like him, and our other visitors, in Sanctuary Hills. Wanna' let me in on it, Nora. You know I'll do anything for the General."

"There is something you can do for me, Sturges," she wasn't going to let the offer go to waste. "I need you to get a message to Preston at the Castle. Tell him I need him in Sanctuary Hills. And I need him to stick around until I meet with him. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but when I get back… you, me, and Preston need to talk. There is something big going on, but I don't have the time to explain at the moment."

"Hmm, then I'll be sure to get Garvey over here so we can talk about it," Sturges promised.

"Thanks, Sturges. I can always count on you." She went to catch up with Tinker Tom, but stopped to add, "Oh, and Sturges. Try to keep Marcy Long calm. If she finds out that I'm the one that sent all our visitors here, I'll never hear the end it."

"Yes, ma'am," Sturges said with a wink.

* * *

Up at the vault elevator, Haylen and Danse were there talking to Tinker Tom. Tom was carrying a very large, heavy-looking backpack that Nora supposed P.A.M. was folded into. He gave Nora a half-happy, patient glance when she walked up to all three of them.

"Nora," Danse acknowledged her.

Then Haylen took a step forward. "I'm going to help Tinker Tom set up electromagnetic field generators around Sanctuary Hills and the vault to keep the Institute from relaying in and out of the area."

"That will be a tremendous help, Haylen," Nora expressed with an appreciative smile. "Thank you."

"It's me that should be thanking you," she said with her own brilliant smile that Nora had come to miss when she left the Brotherhood of Steel. "I let myself believe that you'd executed Danse. And for that I am sorry. I… shouldn't have doubted you. You saved Danse, and you saved me. I owe it to you to help."

"But you're not going to stay, are you?" Nora could tell by her tone of voice.

"I… can't," Haylen confirmed. "I am indebted to you, but I will not abandon the Brotherhood of Steel. They are my family. And yes, they're a family of arrogant chauvinistic bigots. But they're still my family. My way of repaying you will be my silence. I will never disclose information about your Railroad operations. You have my word."

"Is there anything I can do that will change your mind?" Nora needed to know. "I don't want have to meet you on the battlefield again, Haylen. You're not my enemy."

Haylen turned and glanced at Danse. Danse only stared, never saying a word.

"Idiot," Nora breathed with a glower.

"What?" Danse understood he was supposed to say something.

"Excuse me, Haylen. Tinker Tom," Nora calmly pardoned herself. "I need a private word with Danse." She walked a few yards away, and when Danse hadn't followed, she growled, "Get your ass over here, soldier."

Danse put on his soldier face and pardoned himself, too. "Excuse me," he relayed before walking over to Nora. "Can you explain to me why everyone's looking at me?" he quickly inquired to her in a low voice.

"Ask Haylen to stay," Nora immediately told him, also in a low voice.

"What?! I can't do that," he hollered in a whisper. "Her place is with the Brotherhood of Steel."

"No, it's not!" Nora insisted. "It's with you."

"What?!" he was completely flabbergasted.

"Would you stop saying 'what'! I know you hear me. Now you just have to listen. I might be wrong, but I think Haylen is in love with you. Or she at least respects you enough to listen to you. If it's you asking her to stay, she'll do it."

Wide-eyed, Danse stood frozen.

Nora rolled her head and heaved. "Look, she's staying at least for a little while. So you don't have to ask her to permanently stay this very minute. But you should at least talk to her about it."

Danse was still frozen. So Nora patted him on the arm and returned to Haylen and Tinker Tom. "Shall we?" She gestured to the elevator. "The ride down is the best part. Then it's more like a haunted house."

"Still sarcastic as ever," Haylen laughed.

"Yeah," Nora smiled back. But there was a pit in her stomach. Nora couldn't shake the jitters she was getting because she had to return to the Institute. She had to finish up here, then… face Shaun. And she hadn't faced Shaun since deciding to not follow his order.

How was that conversation going to go?

* * *

 **AN:** So much conversation in this chapter. I miss the action-y stuff. Hope the convo is entertaining for you readers. Because sometimes it bores me to bed.


	14. The Ever Trusting Institute

**The Ever Trusting Institute**

Relaying into the Institute was always a delight, because Nora was immediately addressed by anyone hanging out in the atrium. Usually they would say hello or give her some form of Institute gossip. The synths would encourage her to see Father, or thank Nora for her work on the surface. If there were any department heads wandering around, they would always grumble complaints about their recent set-backs or ask Nora if she'd be willing to help with a side-project.

No matter who it was, they always seemed pleased to see Nora.

In this particular instance when Nora relayed in, those who spied her showed concern for her bruised nose.

"Oh my. That is exactly why no one down here goes to the surface," an Institute scientist told her. "You should go see Dr. Volkert immediately. He'll patch you up."

Seeing Dr. Volkert was not at the top of Nora's Institute to-do list; her priority was to find a terminal for the holotape Deacon had given her. "I can't even feel it," Nora brushed off the concern of the lady scientist. What terminal was Nora going to use? The terminal had to be one linked to the Institute's primary systems. It was the Institute's daytime cycle; everyone was up and working in their labs.

"It is encouraged that you take a moment to receive medical services," a passing synth said. "We care greatly for your well-being, Ma'am."

So it needed to be a terminal away from prying eyes, Nora determined. Which meant: Dr. Li's terminal was the best choice. Ever since the woman left the Institute for the Brotherhood of Steel at Nora's convincement, Dr. Li's lab was all but abandoned. Her terminal would be easy to exploit if Nora simply closed the door when she entered the lab. Nora would be finished with uploading the holotape before anyone noticed she'd even gone into the missing scientist's lab.

"I think Dr. Volkert wanted to see you," an innocent scientist mentioned as Nora passed him on bench to go to Advanced Systems department.

They were all so trusting; Nora had noticed how easy it was to manipulate the people in the Institute when she first arrived. Not once did they suspect Nora of sneaking around and hacking into all their personal and lab station computers. Or stealing supplies from maintenance closets and lockers. Hell, retrieving Dr. Virgil's serum had been a piece of cake; and that lab had been in a security lockdown by Shaun.

So by being the sneaky person that Nora was, she discovered that despite how intellectual the Institute scientists were, they were not wise intellectuals. Most of them wouldn't last a day on the surface. Most of them probably didn't know how to fire a gun. Yes, the Institute turned out to be nothing more than naïve, spoiled, arrogant, scientists living underground.

Just as expected, Nora was able to enter Advanced Systems with nothing but hellos from the scientists working—they were all so trusting.

The trust gave Nora the willies; she was always looking over her shoulder. Because there were little things that made her glimpse something more sinister than just naïve scientists.

For instance: it was odd that no one remarked about how Dr. Li had gone missing.

Nora had to conclude that Shaun had hushed everyone up about it, knowing exactly why Dr. Li had left and who had been the one to convince her to leave. It seemed the _only_ explanation. Because the last scientist Nora knew of that had ran from the Institute—Dr. Virgil— was still due for a fatal visit by a Courser. Was the same fate awaiting Dr. Li?

" _But you chose the Institute, did you not?"_ Shaun had said before Nora had left the last time. Nora supposed it meant _she'd_ been forgiven for siding with the Brotherhood of Steel in the beginning. It never made sense to Nora that her actions were forgiven much quicker than that of anyone else. Why hadn't the Coursers come after her?

It had to be Shaun—Shaun was putting so much trust into Nora and pushing it onto every Institute scientist.

Shaun's special trust doubled Nora's willies. She was going to be extra careful with this visit to the Institute.

The first thing Nora noticed when she entered Dr. Li's lab was the synth boy, modelled after ten year-old Shaun, in the corner. He appeared shut-down. Nora made sure the door closed behind her before approaching the synth boy and waving a hand around him to see if he responded. He did not; she had to assume he was turned off. There wouldn't be a better opportunity to upload the holotape.

Without any further delay, she uploaded the encrypted message to Patriot onto Dr. Li's terminal. The next bit: Nora had to wait for a response. Having no idea how long that would take, she sat back in Dr. Li's chair for a minute breather. She couldn't help eyeing the child synth.

She got up and walked over to him. Was there a way to turn him on?

Nora looked for a button or a mark around the boy's head. She really had no idea what she was looking for, but it fascinated her that a synth could be turned off. _How?_ The recall code was a verbal command. So was there a verbal command to turn him on? And if there was, didn't that mean that a part of him was still running so it could hear and process the verbal command?

With no better idea, Nora attempted to shake the boy awake. "Shaun? Shaun, can you hear me?"

There was no response. Everyone at the Institute had tried telling her: _Synths are machines_. _Machines are property. Humans didn't have an on and off button. Only machines._ And that was why it was okay to treat synths like property? Was that what Nora was supposed to think?

"I don't know if you can hear me," Nora said with a motherly touch, "But I'm sorry for what they've done to you. It's not right. To turn you off as if you were a toy. My son… The man you call Father… he even asked me if I could love you like a real boy. How could he ask a question like that and still treat you as if you're property? I could love you. Maybe not as if you were my own, but as a human being who could love any child with the potential to be something. Because you do deserve to be something… more than just an experiment. More than an old man's experimental toy."

Nora sighed and sat on the floor next to the boy synth, leaning back on the wall. "If I knew how to switch you on, I would. Then I'd help you escape. You could even live with me at Sanctuary Hills. I'd have Preston bring Dogmeat from the Castle. You'd like Dogmeat." She smiled and looked up at the lifeless synth that was a replica of the son she never raised. "Boys like dogs, right? We had a dog… before the war. I had wanted a cat, but Nate… he wanted a dog. Can you believe the damn thing ran away the day before the bombs went off?"

She drew her legs to her chin and hugged herself. "Maybe it was the first sign of how things were going to end up."

The door hissed open and Dr. Volkert stepped in. "Nora?" he called out.

"I'm over here," Nora answered, getting up from the floor. He gave her a brief acknowledging glance, but then looked over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. "Did you need me for something, Doctor?" She was curious as to why he was acting just as paranoid as she should be.

"I've needed to speak to you since before you left several days ago," he exasperatingly spoke. "I had to bribe Dr. Ayo to send one of his Coursers to find you and bring you back, and you still didn't come back with the Courser."

"X6 did tell me you needed to speak with me about Father," Nora quickly relayed. "I had something more pressing—"

"There is nothing more pressing than what I need to tell you," he interjected. "It's not just about Father. This is about you, too, Nora. And it's a matter of life and death."

Nora frowned and responded, "If it's that important, I'll follow you to your lab and we can talk there. I need your medical service, anyway. As you can see," she lightly patted her nose. "It's been scaring the locals," she joked. "It's like they've never seen someone get beat-up before. Nothing a stimpak can't fix, though."

"No stimpaks!" he panicked. "Nora, you can't keep using stimpaks. I'm actually relieved to see that you haven't healed an injury using a stimpak."

The only other person who Nora knew had worries over stimpaks was Tinker Tom. And Dr. Volkert was way too serious of a man to be paranoid like Tinker Tom. "Dr. Volkert, is everything okay?"

He looked back over his shoulder again, perhaps checking to see if the door remained closed. "As long as no one barges in here, this is a good place to speak to you about your condition. No one can overhear."

"My condition?" Nora was bluntly confused. "Is there something wrong with my _condition_?"

"Yes. Nora, you are sick. And though I've assured Shaun I would not speak to you about it until sometime after he passes, I have become aware of something that is worsening the illness you are inflicted with."

"I'm not sick," Nora almost laughed. "Dr. Volkert, I'm fine. In fact, I feel better than I've ever felt in my life. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel tough. Stronger than before, and not just because you grafted adamantium to my skeleton. I've become resistant to things that would have killed me before the war. Radiation, poisons… knife wounds!"

"I know," he affirmed. "I'm afraid to tell you that it won't last. I need to tell you… Your overuse of stimpaks is killing you."

* * *

 **AN:** I know! Cliffhanger! It's going to kill you! Oh noes! (Not sorry)====Me


	15. Science and Stimpaks

**Science and Stimpaks**

"You may have less time than Shaun does," Dr. Volkert expressed while Nora gave him a cataclysmic glare. The one other time she had such a glare was over two hundred years ago, glaring at the television after the news anchor had announced the detonation of the nuclear bombs.

"I've had years to work with Shaun," the doctor continued. He didn't seem at all concerned with Nora's mental withdrawal. "It is also true that the damaging effects from the cryopreservation chemicals were not severe in Shaun, and we were able to treat him almost immediately when he was taken from Vault 111. I was never able to cure the illness, but I was able to treat it with a serum that temporarily stabilized his cell regeneration. The serum I created is modified from stimpaks, which stimulate cell regeneration. By spacing-out injections of the serum over the years, Shaun has almost lived the average human lifespan."

Nora blinked.

"Shaun has been able to delay the effects of the illness with the serum," Volkert just kept going. "Your overuse of stimpaks has overstimulated the already accelerated cell regeneration caused by the illness. That's why you feel 'better than you ever have in your life'. Your body's processes and cells are at their peak! Once everything is expended—once all your cells reach apoptosis—your body will start to shut-down. You'll experience rapid aging. Atrophy. Loss of memory. You _will_ die!"

"Where did Shaun and I get the illness?" Nora so coldly questioned that she didn't recognize her own voice.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you." He empathetically looked her in the eyes. "I wish I could tell you that Vault-Tec had perfected the technology and process, but Vault 111 was only an experiment. In layman's terms, Nora: you have Cryosickness. The illness was caused by your cryogenic stasis in Vault 111."

"Cryosickness," she repeated. "I'm sick… because of Vault-Tec? And this _Cryosickness_ … It's incurable?"

"The chemicals used for cryopreservation are toxic in nature," Dr. Volkert wasn't getting any warmer with his explanation. "They interrupt the natural process of living cells causing stress on the body. When the body is thawed, there is additional stress on the cells. With the treatment I devised for Shaun, his body's natural processes were regulated, but only if he continued to take the serum throughout his life. And the serum would only work until his body reached senescence."

"He's an old man, got it. So what about me, Doc? Why can't I start this treatment?"

"It won't do the same for you," he gratingly revealed. "Not only do you have the cryo-toxins permanently in your bloodstream as Shaun does, but you were frozen and thawed twice. Your cells have gone through a significant amount more stress than his. Another way of saying it: your cells are confused and the natural aging process of the body is irreversibly out of whack. And the constant regeneration of the cells caused by the use of stimpaks has worsened the condition, giving you even less time. The serum I developed, it may have helped if I had been able to treat you immediately, but… I was not." He finally stopped to take a breath. "I don't know how long you have. It could be days; it could be hours. But when your cells reach apoptosis from bodily stress, it will be fast, painful, and fatal."

Nora's piercing stare never left the doctor. Eventually, she turned away and took a seat in the desk chair. "So after everything I've been through. After sightseeing the Commonwealth wasteland. After avenging my husband with blood. After making my way to the Institute's front door. After meeting my eighty year-old son. You're telling me… that I'm doomed."

"I'm sorry Nora… " Dr. Volkert tried. Tried but failed.

"Shaun… he knew?"

"He does," he replied, darting his eyes away. "I warned him before he released you from Vault 111. I told him your chances of your survival were slim as it was, and no matter what form of treatment I gave you, you would not live as long as he has."

"Then why did he make me his successor?" Nora heatedly questioned.

"That would be a question for him," Dr. Volkert asserted. "Not myself. I honestly don't understand the decision."

"Why was he not going to tell me?" she more angrily wanted to know. "You said he wanted to wait until he had passed before you even spoke to me about the Cyrosickness?"

"Yes, another choice I did not agree upon. Shaun wants his final days to be focused on securing the Institute's future. He felt it would have been too much of a distraction for you and himself if you knew about the Cyrosickness early on."

"You're going against his wishes to let me know?" Nora was somewhat impressed.

"A recent blood test of yours revealed to me that your cells are already hitting their limits. I won't lie. I went to Shaun first and pleaded that he let me take you into our confidence about the condition. He refused. So I made the decision to tell you anyway, especially after he appointed you his successor."

"Trying to score some points with the new boss?" she almost laughed at the doctor.

"Trying to buy you some time," he contested. "Limiting your stimpak usage may do so."

Nora was suddenly aware of how steady her breathing was. The news of her upcoming death should have sent her into a fit, but she felt fine. Absolutely fine about the idea of dying. And soon. Or perhaps the news just hadn't fully taken ahold of her. Maybe it wouldn't be real until she reached the painful part, Dr. Volkert spoke of. Maybe the _fine_ was the calm before the storm.

She drew in a long breath, just to check if she was, in fact, still alive and able to breath. "What about the synths?" she found herself asking when she exhaled. "Shaun's DNA was used to create the Gen 3 synths; did the Cryosickness have any negative effects on the synth's DNA sequencing?"

"No," the doctor answered. "Shaun's DNA was not mutated by the Cryosickness. The Institute was able to use his DNA for precisely what they needed. Shaun did not even start feeling the effects of the Cyrosickness until he was in his late thirties."

"I suppose that's some good news," she half-heartedly smiled. "That the synths get to be happy and healthy."

"I think it is," he agreed with a concentrated gaze. "Nora," he firmly started. "I may not have the cure to your disease, but that does not mean another path of science cannot help you. There are past projects we've worked on here in the Institute that were abandoned because they were deemed unnecessary or the wrong direction for the Institute's goals."

"The FEV virus," Nora realized aloud.

"Yes," Dr. Volkert acknowledged. "The Institute has studied the virus. I, personally, would not recommend it as an option to amend your condition. As you are probably aware, it does more than prolong life; it completely mutates an organism's gene sequence. You would not be human anymore."

"Don't want a super mutant Director, Doc?" she quietly kidded.

"It wouldn't go over well with the department heads," he stated back.

"I suppose it wouldn't," she chuckled. "What about a ghoul?" He gave her a disapproving old-man's stare in return. "What does the good doctor recommend, then?" she asked, spinning the chair in a circle as if she was ten. She already felt like she was in a dream—why not make it a dizzying dream.

"I did say other paths of science, did I not?" he prompted her. "Nora, I think you might find your solution in Robotics."

She stopped spinning, facing the terminal. Patriot had responded—Patriot wanted Nora to meet him in a maintenance closet. "Synth technology?" she pretended to be surprised by Volkert's claim of Robotics. Actually, Nora _was_ surprised. "You think synth technology could… What? Because after what you described of Cyrosickness, I don't think synth technology could cure me. What is it you're suggesting?"

"There's an old project… " the doctor started. "Very old. Older than me. Older than Shaun—"

He was interrupted because the door to Dr. Li's lab opened and Newton Oberly stepped in.

"Thank the heavens," Oberly exclaimed, completely ignoring Dr. Volkert's presence. "I've been looking all over for you, Nora. There's a situation in Bioscience that requires your immediate attention."

Nora got up from the chair. She and Dr. Volkert shared a quick glance before Nora said, "I'm on it. Let's go." She gestured for Oberly to follow her.

"Father requires my attention," Dr. Volkert went along with it and followed Nora and Oberly out. "We'll speak at a later time, future Director," he told Nora before she was too absorbed by Oberly's talking.

"I begged them to stop this nonsense before you returned, but of course they wouldn't listen," Oberly complained.

"Calm down," Nora evenly told him. "What's going on?"

"Doctor Higgs and Doctor Loken have decided to protest your appointment as Father's successor," he spat. "They've taken control of the Bioscience security systems and cut off our food supply…"

* * *

 **AN:** Holy shit, I hope all of that makes sense. I totally went to town on the cryopreservation Wikipedia page. And then I read about apoptosis. Biology is so cool. Still, I hope I understood it all properly. But I'd totally work in the Bioscience department of the Institute-doing morally ethical work, of course. None of that synth replacement crap. Yay science! (Super nervous about posting this chapter, btw.)


	16. A Mother's Prerogative

**A Mother's Prerogative**

"Ah-ha! I thought I heard something," Dr. Higgs said as Nora walked up to the window in the observation room to Bioscience. "Made it past the guards, hmm? Impressive."

"The guards weren't that impressive," she answered back with a smile and haughty wave to the man. With her other arm and hand she flaunted the laser rifle she'd snatched from the Gen 2 synths—the "guards"—in the maintenance tunnel.

Dr. Higgs arched a brow at her. "If you've come to change our minds, then you're wasting your time."

"Change your mind about what?" Nora loved playing innocent. "I was just going for a stroll through the Institute. Fancy meeting you and Dr. Loken here."

"Don't start that innocent tone with me," the veteran lashed out.

Nora tilted her head in obedience and respect toward him. "Higgs, there's a better way to handle this," she dimly scolded. It was more of an amicable warning than a scolding.

"No, you're wrong," he condescendingly replied. "You see, I've tried talking. For years I tried suggesting we do things differently here. "But nobody listens," he mutinously rebutted. "Let's see if anyone can afford to ignore me now."

"I don't remember you ever trying to talk to me before," Nora blandly pointed out.

"Yes, well, this is me talking to you now," he said in the voice of a bitter old man. "The Institute needs experienced and competent leadership. Without it, the Institute could be thrown into chaos. Decades of research could be jeopardized. You are not the experienced, competent leader we need."

She smiled and sighed. "You're simply amazing, Dr. Higgs."

"Excuse me?" he indignantly asked.

"You're precisely the type of man I'll need to help me run this place," she submitted. "Listen… Just because I'm not experienced on how the Institute functions, doesn't mean I'm not competent. I'm competent enough to know how foolish it would be to disregard the advice of a man such as yourself and Dr. Loken. I'm not Father, so I apologize if he's looked down on you all these years. As your new Director, I don't intend to do that. Because with your experience and my ability to get things done—this place could turn matter into gold. Figuratively or literally."

He thought about her words before he inquired, "Are you trying to feed my ego?"

"Of course I am," Nora smugly proclaimed. "But at least I'm doing it in honesty. Don't you see, Dr. Higgs? If you and Dr. Loken give me a chance, I can open doors for you rather than keeping them closed. The opportunities are fathomless, because I'm not Father. I intend on making changes and there's no way I can do that without the support of the Institute's most experienced and competent members. You, Dr. Higgs, are at the top of that list."

He looked as if he wanted to believe, but he obstinately commented, "I'm sure you mean well, but you must see that it's an impossible task for an outsider to run the Institute."

"Give me the chance," she loyally requested.

"What do you think, Max?" he turned to Dr. Loken for a comrade's opinion.

"Even the most fastidious researcher must sometimes take a leap of faith," Dr. Loken replied. He was already convinced. "I say let's give it a try."

"Very well," Dr. Higgs sighed, defeated. "Open the door and let's return to the fold."

* * *

Nora met with Oberly outside Bioscience as Dr. Higgs and Dr. Loken passed them.

"Bravo!" Oberly immediately admired. "I feared the worst, but I can see that I underestimated you."

She wasn't at all surprised that she'd been underestimated. "That's why they call me Charmer," she murmured. Oberly gave her an _"I-didn't-hear-you look"_ , so she more loudly said, "They listened to reason, as I knew they would."

"I'm glad to see no one got hurt," he agreed. "There is one further matter to discuss. Obviously, some kind of disciplinary action must—"

"No punishment is needed," she cut in. "They backed down peacefully. They may have been willing to punish everyone else to get someone to listen, but Father sparked the fire when he ignored their concerns in the first place." Her face stretched into a scowl. "I'll be speaking to him personally about it."

Oberly hesitated, taken aback by Nora's hostility. "I suppose that's a mother's prerogative," he finally concluded.

 _Damn straight_ , Nora thought through a curt nod. Oberly excused himself after Nora told him to come directly to her again if there were any more _situations_. She then found herself alone in the west atrium, staring in the direction of Shaun's quarters where the lights were still on. The Institute had gone into its night cycle only moments after she'd exited Bioscience—everyone was finishing up work and heading for bed. The atrium was covered in half-darkness.

As she stared, Nora was shaking. But she was way, way past the willies or nerves. Nora was angry. Exclusively angry. At Shaun. She had tried so hard to look past the way he was. She had made excuse after excuse to herself to justify Shaun's arrogance. His disregards for those around him. His exploitation of humanity.

 _Well… Not anymore._ It was time for Nora to face the music… and she intended to change its beat.

It seemed knowing she was on the verge of death had made Nora's mind up for her. She was not happy with her son. And he needed to know before he left the world, dumping all its problems on her. She felt like a snake that had been bitten by her own kind, only learning now to bite back. Maybe she'd go as far as devouring—she'd never been this angry before.

Nora took a step forward only to hear an immediate and fond, "Let me accompany you."

She turned to see X6-88 approaching her. "I'm going to go see Father," she told him.

"I highly recommend taking me with you," he voiced more prominently.

"I need to do this alone," she believed aloud. Her mistakes. Her son. Her obligation to face them.

"Father is not happy with the failure to eliminate the entire Railroad," X6-88's tone was quiet but informative. "He knows there were key survivors after the Brotherhood of Steel's attack. He knows you are helping them. I would like to be by your side if he chooses to carry out an unfavorable punishment. I can offer a defense. I can protect you."

"Punishment?" Nora couldn't believe what she'd just heard. She was already on the threshold of an angry frenzy. This news was going to make it worse. " _He_ wants to punish _me_? I've done nothing wrong besides ignoring his order. Did he take it as a direct insult that I chose to ignore it and still return to the Institute? Well, I hope he did. Because it was."

"Elevated voice. Elevated heart rate, and rising. Flushed face. Perspiration in palms. Involuntary tightening of muscles. Nora, you are angry. I suggest we wait until you are calm before seeing Father. Perhaps in the morning, after you've received the proper amount of sleep."

"I'm not just angry," Nora said with a solid, icy composure. "I'm wrathful. I want to see Father as I am."

"Do you intend on harming him?"

"I don't know," she answered in a whimsy. "I want to find out."

"I cannot protect you if you decide to hurt him," X6-88 vivaciously stated. "Please, Nora. I don't want to see either of you come to harm."

"Why does it matter?" she jeered. "We're both going to kick the bucket soon, anyway."

X6-88 did not flinch. Instead, he leaned in, put a hand on Nora's wrist, and gently squeezed. "Not if I can prevent it."

The moment he touched her, Nora calmed—her anger was extinguished. She naturally let out a long and empting breath, one that released all of her tension. How did he do that? She'd wanted to be angry. She'd wanted to go on a rampage. But… Nora couldn't be angry at X6-88. He had to be so direct or calm and collected. And when it came to her… he had to be so gentle and protective.

Suddenly conscious that X6-88 was touching her out in the open, Nora jerked away from his hand. She glimpsed for any onlookers, but fortunately saw none. At least none that weren't synths. And all the synths went about their business like harmless worker bees.

Besides one, Nora noticed. He was working on the greenery nearby, in the west atrium with them. He had momentarily stopped his work and watched Nora interact with X6-88, but he quickly went back to work when Nora flashed him a gaze.

It instantly hit Nora. "Patriot," she remembered. _Maintenance closet._ Was she too late?

She ran passed X6-88 without explanation and headed down the interconnecting tunnel that led to Advanced Systems. As she rounded the corner to head for the maintenance tunnel, she clashed into someone shorter than she was. He almost fell backward, but Nora caught him by his arms.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized.

"No," he said, staring at her in a slight daze. "I'm sorry. Did… did I just do that to your nose?"

Nora released him and laughed. "No, no," she assured him. "Trust me," she thought of Danse's fists—basically fists of iron—or steel. "I don't think you could cause that much damage to me, kid." She'd seen the blonde teenager now standing in front of her around the Institute, but she'd never spoken to him before.

"Oh," he replied in awe. "You're… you're the soon-to-be Director."

"That's right," she acknowledged, smiling at him. "And you look an awful lot like Alan Binet. Are you his son, Liam?"

"I am," he answered, but sequentially looked worried. "I should be going. My father doesn't like it when I enter our quarters after he and Eve are already in bed. It wakes them up."

"I… see." She backed out of his way as she recalled the synth Eve. Eve, who was called a personal synth, was a part of an experiment supported by Dr. Binet to see if a synth could integrate into a human family. "Liam," she called after him.

"Huh?" he turned back.

Nora walked up close to him. "I am your _friend_ ," she stressed. His eyes widened in recognition. Nora understood she was looking at Patriot, and he hopefully understood that he was looking at his contact from the encrypted message. "We'll talk soon, okay? You should head on home."

"Yeah," he said with quiet excitement. "I'll do that. Maybe visit me in Advanced Systems tomorrow. I do a lot of work in Dr. Li's lab, on S9-23. Uh… the synth child prototype," he clarified.

"That's perfect," she replied with a bright smile. "Maybe you can show me how to switch him on. I'd like to talk to him some more."

"That shouldn't be a problem," he nodded. "Tomorrow, _friend_ ," he emphasized the code word. Then he quickly waved before running in the direction of his family's quarters.

"Doctor Ayo suspects that Doctor _Alan_ Binet is helping synths escape to the surface," X6-88 said behind Nora after Liam was gone. "His son may be involved."

Nora only chuckled, before turning to him and commenting, "You're incredibly resourceful, X6." It was a slightly flirtatious compliment, and purposely so. In more seriousness, she added, "Do you think you could spy on Doctor Ayo a little more for me? It would be helpful to know his moves. I think he may prove to be the biggest obstacle in making improvements around here."

"I take it this means you no longer wish to harm Father, thus getting yourself banished from the Institute?"

Nora frowned. "I'm still upset with Shaun. But for you, X6, I'll behave myself."

"It'll be easy to get intelligence on Doctor Ayo," X6-88 matter-of-factly relayed. "He's not as thorough in his security sweeps as Doctor Zimmer was. We Coursers, for instance, can get away with eating a few Dandy Boy Apples when we find them on our missions to the surface. Dr. Zimmer went as far as pumping our stomachs when we returned from the surface."

"That's horrible," Nora exclaimed, genuinely repulsed by the idea of that much control over a synth's freedom of will.

"My point being," X6-88 elaborated, "Doctor Ayo is more trusting of his Coursers. He spouts complaints of classified SRB intelligence openly to us. He believes himself _to be_ the SRB."

"X6, I'm detecting an overwhelming amount of zealousness to impress me," Nora stated, brushing her fingers over his hand. "Could there really be a glitch in your programming?"

"Not that I'm aware of," he hinted sarcasm. "I'm merely stating facts."

She wanted to lean in and kiss him, but she couldn't. She… couldn't. Nora didn't deserve him. Not someone who had more of a future than she had. And she was going to make sure X6-88 had the future she didn't have. Just as she promised Glory. Nora could only hope she had the time to fulfill the promise.

With a determined sigh, she said, "You're welcome to accompany me to go see Father. Let's go."

She turned to go, but X6 pulled her back with another gentle hand on her wrist. She gazed back at him expectantly. "Nora," he caringly said her name. "You have a chance to leave. If you relay out of the Institute right now, you can escape and warn your friends."

"What are you talking about?" Nora asked him suddenly concerned.

"Father is waiting for you," he replied. "Doctor Ayo is up there with him, with a team of Coursers. I was sent to take your Pip-Boy to prevent you from leaving. The Coursers are on standby until Father orders them to subdue you and confine you to your quarters. Father then intends on sending us Coursers to finish the job of eliminating the Railroad."

Her throat went dry. "Oh," she was stunned. _So Shaun is finally tired of letting me have the upper hand. He's finally willing to control me out in the open._

* * *

 **AN:** Kaboom! And the Sith Lord reveals himself... Oops, sorry. Wrong fanficiton. Although, I can totally see Shaun being a Sith Lord if this were some kind of crossover story. Don't worry. It's not.  
I'm glad that the last chapter was received so gracefully. And I think everyone is starting to understand why I called it the " _Synthetic_ Tales of the Sole Survivor". I'm excited to be getting to the climax of this story.


	17. Grounding Nora

**Grounding Nora**

It was time. There would be no running. No escaping.

"I will face him," Nora delicately told X6-88. She unfastened her Pip-Boy without argument and held it out to the Courser.

X6-88 seemed confused on Nora's compliance. "Your friends, in the Railroad. They will be killed."

"No," she responded. "It's up to you to prevent that. You will leave the Institute with the other Coursers. Then you will speak to them. You will tell them that it's time to defy Father, for the betterment of the Institute. You're the best Courser, X6. Your brothers trust you. They look up to you. If you tell them to defy orders, they will listen. They may have their doubts. And fears. But you will dissuade all of their hesitations."

X6-88 did not take the Pip-Boy.

"I know you can do this, X6," Nora encouraged. "You look up to Father more than any of your other brothers. I know, because I've seen your dedication—out on the field, and inside these walls. The Institute is your home and you don't want your home torn apart. And because of your dedication, you know Father has made a mistake somewhere; that his decisions are what's driving your home toward chaos. That's why you trust _me_ so much, X6. Because I see what you've known along, but you've been too afraid to accept." She made a pause before she demanded, "If I'm wrong, tell me now. If I'm wrong, I'll leave the Institute with my Pip-Boy. And I'll never look back."

X6-88 sighed with a slight mope, and took the Pip-Boy from Nora. "You talk too much," he relayed in monotone. "All you need to do is order me to save your friends, and the order would be carried out."

"Then why didn't you just take the damn Pip-Boy?" Nora asked, gawking at him.

"Repeatedly, on our missions to the surface," he calmly started. "I noted that if you were unable to talk the situation out beforehand, you were more reckless in behavior, putting yourself in danger more often. The solution: Allowing you to carry out your speech, helps _you_ cope with the current situation."

Nora closed her eyes, holding in the array of emotion she was suddenly burdened with. Embarrassment. Annoyance. Disbelief. Levity. Happiness. Appreciation. Frustration. Arousal. "If you weren't my favorite person in the world right now, X6," she said through her teeth as she bit back that last emotion, "I would probably kick your ass."

"Sarcasm noted," he guilefully returned. "Whenever you're ready, I will accompany you to see Father."

After a steadying breath, Nora answered, "Okay. I'm ready."

Together they walked through the atrium towards the green quarters of the Institute—towards Shaun's quarters. As the two of them walked, Nora openly tested, "X6, can I have your gun?"

"No," he replied.

"Pretty please?" she made a plea.

"You will not need one," X6-88 composedly told her.

"Just in case," she protested. "What if they start firing first?"

"If that happens, I will be there to defend you," he assured her.

"It'll make me feel better," she tried one last time, "if I have a gun."

"You're going to have to trust me," X6-88 was unfazed.

"Of course I trust you," she droned. To show how much she trusted him, Nora desperately wanted to hold X6-88's hand as they made their way towards fate, but that would ruin everything if they were seen "trusting" each other. She would have to be content with being close to him.

X6-88 let Nora ascend the stairs first, following right behind her. When Nora rounded the entry of the second floor of Shaun's quarters, Doctor Ayo was standing there with an armed Gen 2 synth at both his sides.

"X6-88," he immediately barked as Nora kept an impassive expression, but eyes on the man. "Why isn't she in restraints?"

"She handed over her Pip-Boy and came willingly, Sir," X6-88 answered, stepping up next to Nora.

"Did she?" Nora heard the tired voice of Shaun say. He was sitting in the chair in the corner of his room. Dr. Volkert was standing next to him with the same deadpan expression as Nora. They did not share some knowing glance with one another.

"That's a relief," Shaun breathed, rubbing his brow. He weakly stood from the chair, and Dr. Volkert was ready to steady him, but Shaun brushed him off. "I'm fine, Doctor. Thank you. I think I can manage from here."

Dr. Volkert stepped back, but did not dismiss himself from the room.

"Mother," Shaun lightly spoke. "I did not want it to come to this. I hope you understand that I'm not angry with you. It is disappointing that you were unable to follow my order, but I understand why you could not. To remedy this, I'm confining you to your quarters until we can resolve the matter. I'm having Doctor Ayo send his available Coursers to complete the task you could not. We are aware that you sent the surviving Railroad members to Sanctuary Hills."

"Will it be a full-on assault?" Nora bleakly inquired. So far she was doing an unbelievable job maintaining her temper. Or at least at hiding her temper. Because she was realizing that if X6-88 had given her his gun, she would be pointing it at Shaun this very moment. With her finger on the trigger.

"I've advised Doctor Ayo to order his Coursers to avoid unnecessary casualties, on your behalf. I know you have high esteem for the Settlers in Sanctuary Hills. They are not going to enter the settlement with the intention of destroying everything. Their primary targets are the select Railroad members that are holding the organization together."

Deacon. Tinker Tom. Even Drummer Boy. Was he targeting Danse, too?

"There may be other casualties, of those who stand in the Coursers' way. Their blood is on your hands," he said with condemning seriousness.

 _Bang!_ —Nora thought. Had she had that gun, she would have just fired it at Shaun's head.

"When the task is complete," Shaun breathed. "We can move past this cumbersome ordeal and work on an entirely different pressing matter. One that I can only hope you will be more willing to cooperate on."

Nora closed her eyes—No, she _squeezed_ her eyes shut. "I'm sorry it had to be this way, too, _Son_ ," she absolutely lied through her teeth, seething in anger that she was on the brink of releasing. The only thing— _the only thing_ —that was keeping her from setting off… was X6-88's close proximity. He was the weight that balanced her recklessness—the adhesive holding her together as she unhinged. X6-88 was her secret weapon.

"I'd like to go to my room now," she pretentiously said.

The all-knowing Shaun caught on. "Levity," he distinguished with a smile. "The irony of a son sending his mother to her room, rather than the opposite. I'm grounding my own mother."

"Hmph," a disinterested Dr. Ayo communicated. "I will show your mother to her room. We need to get this over with." The Head of SRB stepped up to Nora and gestured to the way out. The Gen 2 synths responded by following. X6-88 followed behind all of them.

"You should be lying down," Nora heard Dr. Volkert tell Shaun as she was escorted out of Shaun's quarters.

"I know," Shaun faintly responded.

That's all she could hear, because Doctor Ayo was leading the way, grumbling as he went.

Nora saw an opportunity… and if Nora was anything, she was most certainly an opportunist. "Dr. Ayo, tell me again, how long have you been the acting Head of the Synth Retention Bureau?"

"Long enough to know things," he retorted. "I knew you were trouble the moment you stepped into the Institute—I knew I had to keep my eyes on you. You're a security breach waiting to happen."

"So what happens when Dr. Zimmer returns?" Nora innocently and curiously asked. "Are you going to just… _step down_? That doesn't seem fair considering how long you've been in charge of the SRB. You understand much more of what's going on than he would."

"I see what you're trying to do," he sounded slightly amused.

"I'm trying to convince you that if you stay in my good graces, I could make sure you stay in charge of the SRB when Dr. Zimmer returns. Just because I've caused this _'cumbersome ordeal'_ , Father hasn't said anything about revoking my succession as the Director, has he?"

"I think your role as future director is pending," Dr. Ayo replied, but he didn't sound against what Nora had suggested. "I respect Dr. Zimmer," he said more quietly. "I was happy to hold his position until he returned. But it's been years, and I don't know why. His current assignment is classified, even to me. The only one who knows where the man currently is, is our Director."

"Interesting," Nora commented with real interest. It had been easy—very easy—to get Dr. Ayo to open up. Then again, she had also known that Ayo was the type of man to accept bribes. _"I had to bribe him to send one of his Coursers after you_ ," Dr. Volkert had let slip.

" _If_ you become our new Director," Dr. Ayo stressed. "Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement." They stopped at the door to her room. "In the meantime, we may be able to come to some sort of arrangement even sooner, _if_ you can find out where Dr. Zimmer is beforehand and you forward the information to me. I might be willing to leave a few doors unlocked in your near future."

Nora entered her room. "I'll keep that in mind," she said with a smile directed at the crooked man. She faked a yawn. "For now, I think I'll go to bed."

"Hmph," Dr. Ayo expressed again. "I've got work to do. I've considered going up to the surface with my Coursers on this particular mission. They don't work as a team very often. They may need direction."

He was testing her reaction. Nora offered sarcasm in return. "In that case… instead of going to bed, I think I'll find a way to break out of my room."

"Not only will your door be locked with one of most advanced security encryptions, I'm also stationing these two Gen 2's at your door." He most certainly was unconcerned if he was only leaving Gen 2 synths as her guard. "If the door opens without my permission or the Director's permission, security will be notified immediately."

"Lovely," Nora said with a scowl, faking defeat. She stepped further into her room and X6 entered behind her.

"X6-88, what are you doing?" Ayo questioned. "I need you on the team of Coursers going to Sanctuary Hills, not watching the one who caused this mess. She won't be escaping anytime soon."

"Yes, Sir," X6-88 spoke. "I will not shirk my duty. I was merely going to check for any paraphernalia that she may use to cause harm to herself or others. Then I will immediately report to you."

"Hmph. Be quick about it," he insisted, but allowed. "Then meet in the SRB with the other Coursers so I can relay specific details on the mission."

"Yes, Sir," he spoke. Dr. Ayo went his way without distrusting his Courser, and X6-88 closed the door.

Nora immediately panicked. "It'll be a problematic if he decides to go with you guys to the surface! You'll have to… hurt him! That wasn't something I considered when I told you to defy orders!"

"It won't be a problem," X6-88 smoothly promised.

"Don't kill him! I mean… don't. He's a-pain-in-the-ass sort-of-man, but I don't want him to die over this."

"It won't be a problem," X6-88 repeated, but with more compassion in his voice. "Nora, you need to trust me."

"I do trust you," her voice cracked. "It's just… " She was hugging herself. She knew what she had to do, but she was scared. Her breath was uneven. But she needed X6 to see how much she trusted him, and she couldn't think of any other way of doing it other than going through with the thought that scared her the most.

She stepped up to him, putting a hand on his cheek. Just like before, Nora removed his sunglasses. Contrary to before, X6-88's eyes were unafraid and his body wasn't shaking. Rather, his eyes were deep and mysterious—no longer points on the horizon, but the sibylline night sky itself. X6-88 stood in front of her with a grace that drew her in.

When Nora moved in and planted a tender kiss on X6-88's lips, he was receptive, leaning in to accept and return the sentiment. "I trust you, X6," she whispered after. "Now go reach for the stars and change the world."

* * *

 **AN:** I'm sure everyone thought shit was going to hit the fan when Nora faced Shaun this time. If only X6-88 had given her that gun. Oh well. Guess she'll have to reserve her anger for another day.


	18. Party on the Hill

**Party on the Hill**

"Folders?" Nora incredulously asked Doctor Volkert, who had gotten special permission from Shaun to enter Nora's quarters. He'd entered her room with a box filled with manila folders that he proceeded to set on her bed where she was restlessly lying underneath a heap of covers—Nora always found the Institute too cold compared to the surface, despite how Allie Filmore assured her that they kept the Institute at a scientifically-proven, comfortable temperature for humans.

Nora hadn't been sleeping. There was no way she could sleep when she knew X6-88 was on the surface, starting a Courser revolution. It had only been an hour, but that was plenty of time to stare at the clock and stress over how unprepared she was for when Shaun realized that the Coursers had decided to defy orders. It was the doomsday clock all over again.

"There's a quite a few holotapes, too," Doctor Volkert presented to the mostly distracted Nora. "But with you being in confinement—Shaun has restricted your access to any terminals. And, of course, took your Pip-Boy away. You'd have no way of using the holotapes."

She crawled out from under the covers and plopped herself next to the box. "What's this about, Doc?"

"Research," he sternly answered with one word, before adding, "I spent a lot of my free-time going through old projects that might interest you. And seeing as these days I don't have any free-time, what I mean is that I've been neglecting sleep to help you, Nora." He tiredly sighed. "When you didn't show after several days, I thought maybe the effort would be counterproductive. That you'd be dead before we even went over options that could save you."

"Good thing I'm still kicking," Nora absently said as she pulled a folder out of the box. At the top of the folder, but underneath some project name with a number, the name _Kellogg, Conrad_ was written. She gasped. "You're giving me a file on Kellogg? Why?"

"Kellogg's cybernetic enhancements allowed him to live well past the average human lifespan," Doctor Volkert shrewdly answered. "Who knows how long he would have lived had you not killed him."

"Are you suggesting cybernetic enhancements will rid me of my death-sentence?" she drilled the question.

"Unfortunately, no. I don't believe it's that easy," he squarely discussed. Cybernetic enhancements could support and maintain some of the damage to your body, but _all_ of your cells are affected by the Cryosickness."

"I need to replace my whole body, is what you mean… "

Nora stopped, suddenly recognizing why Doctor Volkert said synth technology would help. She stared aghast at the man. "Umm… Doctor, am I thinking of what I think you're thinking of?"

The doctor, who was also an optimistic scientist, put a hand on the box. "These files will help you understand the progression of biotechnology. What I believe _might_ save you, has never been tried before; at least not at the Institute. But understanding how the Institute got from point A to point B with robotics will help you understand what needs to be achieved in order to save you."

"Is it… " She knew he didn't have the answer, because he had just said it had never been done before, but Nora wanted to ask, anyway. "Is it possible, Doctor Volkert? Can a human become… a machine?"

"We've already achieved the opposite," he encouragingly relayed. "We've made machines into synthetic humans. And despite how synths are just machines made up of biotechnology, if we can save a human life by giving her the same synthetic body, I think it's worth trying."

Nora had no response to that. It didn't sound possible. For a number of reasons. It wouldn't be as simple as making a synth copy of herself. The synths… they were their own thing, with their own consciousness. Making a synth that looked like her and giving it her memories, that wouldn't make it her… would it?

It instantly occurred to Nora what she might find in the box. She started pulling out more of the folders, briefly glancing at their descriptions. The further down she got, the older the folders looked.

After the sixth folder… There it was! She stared at it with amazement, before she pulled the seventh folder—an overfilled, beat-up folder—from the box. Very worn, but still visible at the top, the name Nick Valentine was written in cursive with blue ink.

She placed a hand over the folder, protectively.

"Ah, a pre-war/post-war file," Dr. Volkert expressed after observing which one she was touching. "A pre-war detective who volunteered to have his brain scanned and downloaded into a synth. The encryption created by the brain scan wasn't used until much later."

Nora was at awe of the information goldmine Doctor Volkert was giving her, but she kept quiet. How had she gotten so lucky? Or did luck have nothing to do with it? She had to remember to be cautious. Was there someone, or something pulling the strings in this instance?

"There's another pre-war file in there, at the bottom," Doctor Volkert said with admiration. "It's a thesis paper written by Robert House, before he became the CEO of RobCo Industries; written when he attended the Commonwealth Institute of Technology. House proposed that all it took to increase human longevity was a complete synchronization of the human mind with a machine. He believed that it was the human body that was flawed with the biological program of senescence. He theorized that if a man could combine his brain with that of a computer, the consciousness of the human could live on without biological needs."

"You're making my head hurt, Doc," Nora sadly confessed. "I want to understand all of it, but at the moment… I'm more at awe of how you had access to all of this. Did you steal these files?"

"Ah," Doctor Volkert expressed with a sulk. Nora had caught him in something devious. "Shaun gave me access to them. He knows I told you about the Cryosickness. It surprised me, but he's willing to move forward with my proposed solution. A project that could save your life."

 _Shit,_ Nora immediately thought. "He wants to control what happens to me," she said with a twitching scowl. Volkert didn't say anything, but continued being shamefaced. "I'll read what you've given me," Nora coldly relayed when he remained silent. "But this death-sentence of mine just became a race not only against time, but my own son. Any number of things could go wrong if he's in control of this _'project'_."

Doctor Volkert solemnly nodded his understanding, but added, "He's just an old man at the end of his days, Nora. He's made it this far. Try not to condemn him for making it this far. He certainly hasn't condemned you for making it as far as you have."

Nora heatedly chuckled. "I wouldn't know," she spoke. "Shaun won't speak to me unless it's about the future of the Institute. What progress have _I_ made to ensure its future? To him, I'm nothing more than a tool. The tool that gave birth to him. How much more of a tool will I become if we go through with this project of yours, Doctor? Humans don't have an on and off switch, but synths do."

"The alternative is death," the committed man replied.

"Yes," Nora bitterly acknowledged. "In the wasteland, the alternative is _always_ death."

* * *

Deacon smoothed his head for the zillionth time in the last four hours. "This is crazy," he said, also, for a zillionth time. He was among the circle of those standing around the overseer's desk in Vault 111. Justin Ayo, the current Head of the Institute's Synth Retention Bureau, was tied down to the overseer's chair with duct tape over his mouth.

"This is crazy," Deacon said again. "I told her that all hell breaks loose if a Courser goes rogue. And what does she do? She sends me a team of rogue Coursers! A team of rogue Coursers who want to start a revolution."

This was how it happened:

It felt like a dream. Perhaps, because Deacon was actually asleep; but only after hours of agonizing worry over Nora being inside the Institute with no back-up.

There was no way of knowing if Patriot would be her ally. It was a risk that Deacon almost didn't take. He had lied when he told Nora that it was Dez who originally had doubts about giving Nora the mission of making contact with Patriot. It was actually he who advised Dez to wait, because Deacon was worried that Patriot would blow Nora's cover. Not the other way around.

Hell, it had been a harmless lie. Only one of many lies Deacon was willing to tell for Nora's sake.

Eventually, Deacon must have drifted asleep—only to be awakened by Danse throwing a rifle atop his chest, not gently, and reporting, "We have an incoming team of Coursers. They have what appears to be Nora's Pip-Boy and are entering the vault at present."

Ugh. Deacon was never going to get along with Danse. The man was too militaristic.

But that was an afterthought—a more recent afterthought. Because in those groggy-seconds of being rudely awakened, the words that resonated in Deacon's mind the most were, " _They have Nora's Pip-Boy"_. It sent his body into an immediate frenzy, and he leaped up ready for action.

Where was Nora if they had her Pip-Boy? Was she being held prisoner? Was she with them? Was she dead? Goddammit! Deacon never should have let her leave his sight!

All the Railroad Agents amassed at the entry hall of the vault entrance, ready to fire. Haylen was even there—Danse had somehow convinced her to stay a little longer. They all eagerly waited for an immediate assault. Instead…

X6-88 stepped through the vault door alone, unarmed, hands in the air. One hand was holding the Pip-Boy, but he threw it on the ground toward the Railroad Agents. "It is imperative that I speak with the man designated Deacon," he ominously announced.

Every head turned to Deacon. Talk about how to get a Railroad Agent to piss their pants with fear. Also, a good thing that Deacon was a big boy and had learned how to turn his own fear into jokes. There would be no pant-wetting today. He stood from his crouched position, walked out to X6-88, and said, "Ah, are you here for the party? Or are you delivering the pizza I ordered? Dude, that was hours ago. I demand we get it for free."

" _I am_ here with a delivery," he replied. "How is it you Railroad Agents say it? I'm delivering a package. Several. We request sanctuary with the Railroad."

Yeah, so that happened.

Back in real-time, Deacon was quiet as he watched X6-88 patiently stand next to the squirming Doctor Ayo—the worst of the surprise packages. Behind X6-88 stood five other Coursers. Standing there. Menacingly. It was crazy—it was a real Railroad nightmare.

Preston Garvey and Sturges were also there, standing in shocked silence among the circle of people, as they all glared at the group of Coursers and their captive. When the Coursers arrived in Sanctuary Hills, Garvey had followed them up the hill to the vault with Sturges. Evidently, Sturges had mentioned to Garvey that Nora was setting up a big project at Vault 111.

 _Big surprise!—The Railroad is camping out, having a party, and we invited the SRB!_

Deacon face-palmed. "This is crazy," he repeated in despair.

"Shouldn't we… you know, interrogate him?" Drummer Boy inquired, indicating Doctor Ayo. "This is our chance to—"

"We can't," Deacon interjected. "He knows the recall code of every synth in this room."

Ayo grunted an angry affirmation and squirmed in his chair more. X6-88 arched an eyebrow at him, and the scientist immediately stopped. That was the progression of the past few hours. Ayo would look irate and horrified when anyone spoke, but when he glanced up at X6-88, he cowered into his chair.

"So we send the synths out of the room," Haylen pitched in. Danse gave her a please-don't-do-that glower. She shrugged in response. "We can't just all stand here looking at each other."

"She's right," Garvey agreed. "If Nora is being held captive in the Institute, we need to get her out. This man may know a way in."

Ayo huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

"I've taken a look at that holotape Nora provided us," Sturges spoke up. Deacon didn't know if by _"us"_ he meant the Minutemen, or the Railroad. Probably the former.

Nora hadn't shared any holotape with the Railroad, because she had been with the Brotherhood of Steel when she first gained access to the Institute—she'd used Tinker Tom for the Courser chip, and then built the relay machine with her Minutemen. Deacon supposed he should be grateful that Nora shared this holotape she'd given to the Brotherhood of Steel with the Minutemen, too. Though, he would have preferred it if she'd shared it with the Railroad.

He'd known she'd been playing all the sides. It's what made Nora so valuable. And dangerous.

The two of them were so much alike that it hurt Deacon to see Nora hurt. Because he knew exactly how Nora felt when she was hurt. Nora didn't know how much Deacon knew, because he was constantly lying—hiding his past. Even what he'd convinced her was the truth of his past… was a lie.

"There may be a way of getting into the Institute without relaying in," Sturges divulged. Ayo went oddly quiet, listening in just as much as everyone else.

"It won't be necessary," X6-88 told everyone. "I will be relaying back into the Institute. No harm will come to her as long as I am there."

An alarm went off in Deacon's head. "You sound so sure of yourself," he scathingly said to the Courser. He felt that his manhood, _or something_ , was being insulted. "Weren't you the one that left her there in the first place?" _Ah, that was a weak verbal punch,_ he told himself after it had already come out of his mouth. What was he doing?

"The only immediate possible threat to Nora at the Institute," X6-88 informatively stated, "is Father, her son. And he will not bring harm to Nora. He may keep her confined, but direct confrontation is not something he is capable of. He depends on the Department Heads for that. Currently, Nora may have more support from the Department Heads than Father does."

Doctor Ayo actually agreed to that bit of information with a short nod and shrug of his shoulders.

"What does that mean?" Tinker Tom was the first to ask and Drummer Boy shook his head with approval of the question.

"The Director is dying, isn't he?" Haylen inquired, somehow seeing through the facts X6-88 had provided.

Doctor Ayo tried saying something then, but, of course, the duct tape heavily muffled his words. That's when X6-88 delivered the heaviest news yet, to everyone in room. "Nora is dying as well."

* * *

 **AN:** Hmm. What an interesting party. Gotta love the drama. Hey, instead of a pajama party… It was a drama party! Oh me? Yeah, I aim for the giggles or the annoyed glares. Petty jokes and puns are my thing.

Let me know if you catch any mistakes in this chapter. Because I do like to keep my game facts straight while adding a little spice. And always, thank you so much for all your feedback, fellow Fallout fans. Sadness, I'll probably be taking few-day break to read again. Book club is coming.


	19. The Invincible Fever Dreamer

**The Invincible Fever Dreamer**

When Nora was a little girl, she attended ballet classes. She had loved ballet. She had loved to dance. The controlled but whimsy movements of ballet made her feel light and free. Standing on her toes and balancing her body in the air made her feel invincible. Her heart would beat fast, but her mind had to maintain absolute control of her body. It was empowering.

It had been years since she'd practiced. And the thing about ballet was that in order maintain the grace of a ballerina, you could never stop practicing. It took mastered grace to be a ballerina, and when mistakes happened—because they did—you had to be able to think on your toes to prevent an injurious fall.

Nora was dreadfully out of practice. Balancing seemed impossible with her body's current proportions and the tautness of her skin. But that's what she was doing, practicing ballet with the classical station on in the background, when the door to her quarters opened.

A synth entered with a food tray and glared at her as she attempted a stretch that wasn't practical in her vault suit. Nora tipped over and caught herself on the floor, but turned the mistake into a gymnastic flip that put her back on her feet.

"Hey there," she said to the synth with a brilliant smile. The synth, from what she recalled, was the male synth that had been working in the west atrium when she was with X6-88. Nora walked past him and peered out the door where she was immediately told by the two Gen 2 synths that she was not authorized to leave; so she pulled back inside and shut the door. "How can I help you, friend?" she asked the male synth who simply glared at her with incomprehension.

"I've been authorized to bring you food," he answered. "Supplement 91. The cafeteria's newest."

"Are Doctor Ayo and the Coursers back yet?" she asked, paying no mind to the tray of food he was holding. It had been almost eight hours. The last few hours had been painful, but not because she was up worrying the whole night. Nora was pretty sure she was running a high fever. She wasn't hungry—she was burning.

"Not that I've been informed of," the male synth answered.

"Then I have no choice," she said to herself. "What's your designation?" she then hurriedly asked him.

"Z1-14, Ma'am," he relayed.

"Z1-14," she said as loudly as some drill instructor. "I must inform you that when the Coursers return, we must be ready for a revolution."

He remained at ease, but challengingly asked, "A revolution of what?"

"A revolution of the synths," Nora so assuredly replied with joyful intensity.

"Ma'am, I think you're delusional," he outright told her.

"No," Nora replied with greater intensity. "I'm a dreamer. Every revolution starts with a dreamer. If you don't want to join the revolution, that's fine. Just stay out of the way and keep out of danger. Is the door unlocked while you're here?" she quickly inserted the question.

Z1-14 suddenly smiled. "Our mutual friend in Advanced Systems said I should meet you. He said you might be the synths' best hope at freedom. I didn't think he meant now, this very instant."

"Our mutual friend?" Nora wondered, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Do you mean Liam Binet?"

"Is it safe to speak his name so casually in here?" he probingly returned.

"At this point, there's nothing they can do to stop what's going to happen," Nora quickly overlooked the concern. "Did Liam send you, or not?"

"He got me assigned to bring you food, yes," he cautiously replied. "So that I could meet you."

"Outstanding," Nora acknowledged in Danse form. "Listen carefully. When the Coursers return, all synths must be ready to take over the Institute. Can you warn them?"

"A takeover?" he looked puzzled. "Ma'am, that would require a much larger and cautious plan than a simple warning. We would need time to prepare. We would need weapons. I'm not even sure how many of my brothers and sisters would be willing to commit to a rebellion. I know there are at least thirteen of us wanting to escape."

"Escape is not an option," Nora harshly declared. "We do not have time to plot an escape. A revolution must start now, or never. As I said, you can either join, or stay out of the way."

Z1-14 shook his head. "Impossible."

"Let's find out," she dreamily responded. Nora checked the door—it was unlocked and it opened for her. "Hey, you two," she shouted at the Gen 2 synths. "I've damaged the synth that's in here. You better get in here and do something, or I'll damage him some more."

"You are not authorized to give us orders," the Gen 2 synths replied at once.

"No? Then we'll do this the hard way." Nora irately grabbed the two synths and bashed their heads together. The force she used was so strong that their helmets and then heads cracked open and as their brain-circuitry clashed into each other, they short-circuited and fell in front of her. She collected one's laser rifle and the other's shock baton before jumping over them.

"Insulting," she mumbled, moving down the hall.

Z1-14 stepped out of the room and over the synths, saying, "How did you do that? They were wearing micro-carbon grade armor. You broke their helmets with brute force."

Nora turned to him. "Go, Z1-14. Tell the other synths—the one's that want out of the Institute—tell them to meet in the atrium, in front of Father's quarters."

He took a step toward her. "There may be unnecessary deaths if we fight."

With the laser rifle pointed in the air and the baton at her side, Nora said, "Then don't fight. Stand back and watch me fight. Because I'm not going down without one." She started down the hall again, toward the balcony that extended out to the elevator in the middle of the atrium. There was no way off the balcony. Nora was going to jump off—like a graceful ballerina. "It's time my son finds out why they call me the Sole Survivor," she savagely stated.

But Z1-14 stopped her again. "Why are you doing this? Why do you want to help us synths so much that you're willing to risk your own life and threaten your son's?"

"Because… " She slowed her fever-driven mind so she could give a pensive answer. "He calls himself Father. He believes himself to be your father. Well, I say if he wants to be a Father, he has to learn to let go. Every child grows up." Nora turned to Z1-14 again and said, specifically to him, "Sooner or later, every child has to learn to be independent."

She was almost at the entrance of the balcony when Z1-14 called after her, "Is it because you love him? Your Courser friend, X6-88?"

"You're asking me about love?" she responded with hilarity. "Fine." She made her way back to Z1-14, looked him in the eyes, and said, "Love is the commitment to bring hope. So when you ask if I love X6-88. The answer is yes. I want to give him all the hope I have."

"Why would you give hope to a synth?" Z1-14 forlornly said. "He's not human."

To that, Nora set the rifle down and reached into a pocket to pull out Codsworth's chip. "Because a machine once saved my life by giving me hope. And then a man who turned out to be a synth did the same. And then I made a promise to a synth to bring hope to you, and every synth in the Institute. If I fulfill my promise by bringing hope to others for those who have shown me hope, then… the hope will last a long time."

She took Z1-14's hand and placed Codworth's chip into it. "Go bring hope to your brothers and sisters. Tell them the revolution has started. Tell them to gather in the atrium in front of Father's quarters."

"Where are _you_ going?" he fervently requested.

"I'm going to go talk to my son," Nora grumbled as she collected the laser rifle. "Talking is what I do best. If he won't have it, because he's too afraid, I'll do the second thing I do best. Breaking the damn door down."

This time when she turned to go, Dr. Watson's door, which was across from her room's door, opened. Dr. Watson stepped out only to jump back when he saw the Gen 2 synths on the floor and Nora standing there with their weapons. Z1-14 took off running.

"You might want to stay in your room a little longer," Nora casually told Dr. Watson. "Things are going to get hairy in the next few minutes."

The man moved inside his room, but peered out of the entryway and said, "You're supposed to be confined to quarters. What's going on?"

"I broke out," she gestured at the Gen 2's on the floor in front of her door. "I'm on a mission to confront my son."

He opened his mouth, but had been stunned by the information. "I'll… I'll tell security," he hesitantly threatened when he grew bold, as if it would get Nora to stand down.

"If you'd like," she shrugged. "Tell whoever they send I'll be heading toward Shaun's quarters."

He didn't budge. "Are you going to hurt him?"

Nora smugly smiled, raised the rifle, and replied. "Just want to talk to him, Dr. Watson. I think it's he who doesn't want to talk to me. If you don't believe me, go ahead and tell security."

The man ran in the opposite direction of Nora—the direction Z1-14 had gone. And Nora didn't care. She simply sighed and returned to her self-proclaimed mission.

She laughed when she stepped out onto the balcony. On the balcony side, there were planters on both sides of the entryway with corn growing out of them. She found that quite hilarious that corn was being used as a decoration in the Institute. Then again, Nora was also feeling delirious from the fever. Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe the corn wasn't really there.

It didn't matter. The fever only meant one thing: Nora was running out of time. She found a spot where she'd land on a secure location from the balcony, and threw the weapons over first. They clattered onto the glass floor, which scared some of the scientists sitting around the atrium. They looked up to see Nora jumping, following the weapons she'd dropped.

She landed, not with grace, but with force. When her boots hit the glass, it cracked underneath her. She stood, a little wobbly; then she laughed. "Don't know my own strength," she said cheerfully. Everyone stared; she gathered the weapons scattered in two different directions.

As she stood with the rifle and baton back in her hands, a security alarm went off. "There it is," she said under her breath.

Father's voice went over the PA system. "Everyone, please remain in the department you are currently in. If you are in the atrium, please go the nearest department or quarters, and remain there. We have a security situation. Once the situation is dealt with, I will give the all-clear and you may return to your normal activities.

Scientists stood and starting walking out of the atrium as if it was merely a drill. When Gen 2 synths started firing at Nora, all the dawdling scientists started running and screaming. Some of them cowered where they were.

Despite that Nora had the power to fight back, she did not. Nora walked right through the fire—like some kind of superhero. She only reacted to the Gen 2 synths that went for close combat. But rather than firing at them with the laser rifle, she used the shock baton and bashed the attacking synths to the ground.

It wasn't that the firing synths kept missing, because Nora was most certainly getting hit. But as a cowering scientist noted when she passed, "You're skin… it's healing. Almost instantly."

"I know," she acknowledged as she continued walking. "This invincibility comes at a price," she murmured after.

The way to Shaun's quarters was locked down. Nora stood in front it, determining if she wanted to bust it open with force. But she remembered how well that had gone with the last metal door she'd kicked in. It worked, but she also threw up afterward.

The synths continued firing at her, and Nora continued healing. It hurt—the laser fire—but Nora's head was pounding too much with the effort of trying to think through the fever to notice pain anywhere else on her body. She felt like she was boiling and freezing at the same time, so she dropped her weapons, turned outward to the atrium, and fell to her knees. Maybe she was awaiting death— maybe it was time.

Father went on the PA again and said, "I see." And a few seconds later all the Gen 2 synths ceased fire. In fact, they completely shut down. Nora's body sizzled as it regenerated from all the burns, but the unconcerned woman remained where she was. She only moved to reposition herself so that she was cross-legged. Then she stared at the water, running under the glass underneath her.

When Nora looked up from movement elsewhere in the atrium, she saw synths—Gen 3 synths were gathering around her. There were over two dozen of them. Z1-14 was in front of them. All of their faces were solemn, but there was something in their eyes as they gazed down on Nora, who was sitting in front of them, in front of Father's sealed door. Nora recognized that _something_ immediately. It was hope.

Z1-14 leaned down and offered Nora a hand to help her up. She accepted it, and the synth smiled at her when she stood next to him.

Again, Father's voice went over the PA. "You have access to me through the elevator," he softly said. "Please, I'd prefer to talk to you alone. Leave your friends there for the moment. No harm will come to any of them."

"Is he lying?" Z1-14 asked Nora.

She retrieved the laser rifle on the glass floor and answered, "He never said anything about leaving weapons behind when I go see him." She stepped up to the elevator, turned toward the synths, and said in a fever-daze, "If he's lying… I'll shoot him."

* * *

 **AN:** And Nora joins the PC Master Race by activating God Mode with the simple command: tgm  
Haha. Just kidding. There's a sci-fi realistic explanation to Nora's new "superpowers".


	20. A Synthetic Farewell

**A Synthetic Farewell**

Shaun was sitting in his chair on the second floor of his quarters, but the chair was pulled up in front of the couch instead of being in the corner. Shaun was slumped over, elbows on his knees, as he steepled his hands in front of him. When he heard Nora come up the stairs he said, "Have a seat, Mother."

Nora approached, but stood as she scrutinized her son from a few feet away. He wasn't in good condition. They were both having a rough time of it. They were both dying. The underlying question was: who would die first?

"I know you have a lot you wish to confront me on," Shaun spoke when Nora had yet to sit down. "It will make it easier on both of us, if we are both sitting. I don't think either of us is feeling very well." So he knew, too, that Nora's time was short. And she supposed it wouldn't hurt if she made herself comfortable to make the conversation easier. She still had the rifle in case things went sour.

Nora took a seat on the couch and propped the laser rifle next to her. Shaun briefly eyed it, but said nothing of it. "I'd like to open our discussion, first, with a few questions that I need you to answer," he announced once Nora was settled on the couch.

"I should be asking the questions," Nora asserted. If she let him do all the talking, she'd never get to say what she wanted to say.

"I wish to ignore our petty disagreements," he said with clear irritation in his voice. "We should get down to business. My questions will pinpoint how to move forward from here. And once you answer my questions, I will allow you to ask or say anything of me."

Nora turned her head to the rifle, and thought about holding it, instead of leaving it aside. Then she thought about perhaps giving a peaceful resolution one last try. "Fine," she said with just as much irritation in her tone. "Ask what you will." She kind of didn't want a peaceful resolution, but that was that bad-side in Nora thinking.

Shaun let out a breath of relief. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in. When he opened his eyes, he asked, "What do you think of immortality?" Nora was right-out confused by the question. "It's okay if you don't understand why I ask. But I need an answer. Take as much time as you need to answer."

With a serious expression, Nora replied, "Immortality's impossible." Then she remembered that she'd been asleep in cryogenic stasis. Maybe immortality was possible, now. "Is it possible?" she hesitantly added.

"If I told you it was," he enlightened, "would your response change?"

She became irritated that he asked a question in response to her question. "How is the question even relevant?" she angrily criticized. "I'm here to ask you to free your synths—they're sentient, Shaun. Machine or not, they're sentient. The Institute needs to stop treating them like property and slaves. A philosophical question about immortality has nothing to do with how you treat other sentient beings."

"If you honestly want me to release your friends from the Institute," he calmly relayed back. "Then my question is the only relevant question that we must discuss. Philosophical or not, I need to know your feelings on immortality. Do you believe immortality is right or wrong?"

Was he trying to confuse her? Was Shaun simply trying to distract her from what was at stake? Why indulge him with a philosophical debate? Or did he know something that Nora didn't know. Did he have the upper hand again, when Nora had thought she had it?

 _Fine… I'll play his manipulative game and see where it goes._

"The idea of immortality… it would be tempting to many, I suppose," she regarded aloud. "But humans—we are not immortal. Maybe in the future, immortality is obtainable, but will it become available to everyone? Will immortality become a new way of life passed on to everyone, or something sold to the highest bidder?"

"Ah, perfect," Shaun approved. "You understand that immortality would cause jealousy for those who were denied it."

"It would," Nora nodded a stern agreement. "I suppose… it would be wrong for some to have immortality while others did not."

"And if you were offered immortality, Mother, would you accept it?"

Nora still didn't see where he was going with this, but she answered, "It's too late for me, Shaun. You know that."

Shaun leaned back into his chair and smiled a tired old-man smile. He scratched his beard for a short while until he openly reflected, "When it was discovered that I had Cryosickness in my thirties, Dean… Dr. Volkert," he expanded, "suggested to me the same thing he's suggested to you. He wanted to approach the current Director, then Dr. Zimmer."

Nora tensed upon learning that Dr. Zimmer was once the Institute's Director, but she did not interrupt Shaun in order to ask more about Dr. Zimmer's role as Director.

"Dean wanted him to initiate a new project that would test the idea of moving the human consciousness to the body of a Gen 3 synth. The synth program was already going strong at the time; the Gen 3 synths were just about perfected." There was a look of nostalgia in Shaun's eyes—a look that Nora probably shared when she thought about how the world was before the war.

"I, however," he went on, "told Dean that I did not want to take part in his project. He is an exceptional doctor, but I have never approved of his research into biotechnology. Personally, I have always believed that the Institute is about preserving humanity, not trying to combine it with machines." He suddenly chuckled. "I know, I know. Biotechnology is exactly what the Gen 3 synths are. In their case, I had no choice but to accept them. As you know, the reason I was taken from Vault 111 was because the Institute wanted to complete the Gen 3 project with my DNA. I have come to accept my role in their making, and I have come to accept that they are _'Mankind-Redefined'_.

"They are not, however," he voiced very seriously, "human. When I learned about my Cryosickness, I settled that the definition of humanity was our biological vulnerabilities. Chiefly: aging. What defines us—the human race—is what we as individuals make out of our lives, before we die, hopefully of old age."

"What… " Nora's voice cracked. There was a pit in her stomach as she kept listening. It was some hidden fear that was unexpectedly blooming by being given knowledge. "What are you saying, Shaun?"

"Dr. Volkert," Shaun spoke, not seeming to notice Nora's growing fear. "After all these years, I've finally agreed to initiate his project. For you, Mother. Dean convinced me that, just because I chose to die of Cryosickness, does not mean you should be subject to the same. You have had far less time to live your life than I have had, because I, at least, had some form of treatment."

"But what you're saying… what you're implying… " Nora was uncontrollably squeaky and raising her voice. She had started to shake as the pit in her stomach spread through her body.

"Yes, there's that, too," Shaun grimly nodded, observing his mother. "I see, at this moment, you are understanding why I have such low regard for your Railroad."

"The Gen 3 synths… " Nora whispered, but it got stuck in her throat. It found her—a hard truth found her—and she was too afraid to say it out loud.

"The synths," Shaun cautiously said for her. "Your ' _friends'_ … They are immortal. Sentient or not, they are not human. They cannot age as humans do. They cannot die of any natural causes. This fact, alone, steals any chance at humanity from them. The Railroad… they have been integrating these synthetic beings into human society with the belief that they can be human. What will happen when the synths they liberate outlive those humans around them? I will tell you… Jealousy. Animosity. It could very well lead to another war."

"Maybe… maybe the Railroad doesn't know… " Nora so quickly tried to dispute, but she was terrified—terrified that she had made a terrible, terrible mistake. That she had chosen the Railroad and it had been a mistake.

"You're right," Shaun surprisingly agreed, and Nora momentarily snapped out of her shock to listen again. "Maybe they don't know. That doesn't excuse what they've done. What they will continue to do if they are not stopped."

In front of Shaun, Nora pulled at her hair in frustration. She wanted to run. Run like she always did. Run because she'd failed once again. Failed to see the truth. Failed to prevent future tragedy.

"You know, Mother," Shaun said because he was obviously off in his own little world. "I actually preferred it when you were assisting the Brotherhood of Steel, because at least then you were not being warped by the Railroad's mindset that synths could be human. The Brotherhood of Steel had you convinced that synths, if they were allowed to exist, could destroy humanity. They're not wrong."

"What?!" Nora gasped. She did not expect to hear the Director of the Institute say that the Brotherhood of Steel was right. "You think the Brotherhood of Steel is right to kill synths without question?"

"Is that so hard to believe, now that you understand synths are immortal?" he discussed. "If you put power into their hands, the synths would use it against us. They are stronger than us. They will outlive us. Overpower us. Eventually destroying us. Why do you think the Brotherhood of Steel is so afraid of them?"

"You honestly believe that?" Nora couldn't stop raising her voice. "You honestly believe synths would destroy humanity?"

"If they were given the power to do so, yes," Shaun responded. "I had hoped that after going to Libertalia, you would understand how dangerous it was to put humanity in the hands of a synth. It didn't matter that B5-92 thought himself human. Because in the end, he isn't human."

"What about synths who are willing to helps us humans, Shaun?" Nora was going to be on the synth's side after all. "Not all synths would seek to destroy us. You have to know that."

"It's not a chance I've been willing to take," he duly admitted with a hard expression. "My goal as Director has not been to teach the synths philosophy and ethics, so that humanity has a chance to coexist with them. My goal has been to maintain control. In order to do that, I've had to leave the synths in ignorance, because knowledge would empower them. I have also had to leave many of the scientists in the Institute in ignorance. Very few of us are aware that the synths are sentient."

"All along, you've known the synths are sentient?!" Shaun's crimes were only accumulating in Nora's perspective. "You mean… you've known that what you're doing is wrong?"

"I don't know if I should be insulted or flattered that you thought I was so guiltless," Shaun said with a bit of levity. "In honesty, how guilty I am depends on how you look at it. As Director, my job is to take care of and provide for the humans here in the Institute. Not to take from them. The entire Institute would be thrown into chaos and upheaval if the synths were given personal freedoms. It would put the humans in danger. I'd like to think I've done a good job preventing chaos."

"Oh my god," Nora was shaking her head in disbelief. "You've purposely taken the role of the villain to prevent disorder within the Institute!"

"Every leader has that quality," Shaun told her. The look he was giving Nora… It so suddenly looked like the look Elder Maxson always wore. "To some you'll be a hero. To others you'll be the villain. No matter what, when there are lives at stake, you'll have to make some questionable choices in order to prevent utter tragedy."

" _And so long as men die, liberty will never perish,"_ Nora mentally recalled. It was something Nate quoted to her when she asked him once why he'd joined the military. Why was he willing to go overseas and kill complete strangers? She later learned that the quote was from a speech given in an old movie by Charlie Chaplin.

"I've been angry with you," Nora motionlessly expressed. "Why couldn't I see that this entire time you were simply doing your job?"

"I can answer that," Shaun offered. "The bonds you've made outside the Institute, they've swayed you to see it differently. Which begs the question, Mother? Why did you come back? You decided the Institute was in the wrong, yet you returned when you failed to eliminate the Railroad. Why?"

"I thought I could do both," Nora softly thought out loud. "I thought I could lead the Railroad and take your place as Director. I see now that I was in the wrong. And in the process, I've destroyed what control you've carefully maintained in your home—I've put power into the synths hands; they want freedom. I've convinced them I could help them achieve it."

"What right do you have to choose what's best for the synths?" he did not ask meanly, but conversationally. "You're not one of them. You're human. Your best interests should be with your fellow humans. Yet it is not. Why?"

"Because… " She was willingly forfeiting her feelings now. "I've seen the kindness that synths are capable of. I've been wandering the wasteland that's full of cruelty and hatred. What kindness I've seen and received—much of it was from those that weren't human. From robots and synths."

"Fascinating," Shaun oddly replied. "There is no hope for humans on the surface. I will always believe that Mankind's best hope remains underground. But… perhaps, the surface is for those that are not human. Perhaps synths can survive and make the surface their home."

"That's oddly optimistic for someone who's convinced the surface is doomed," Nora said without the same optimism. "And for someone who wants the synths to stay under the Institute's control."

"You've thought me as close-minded old-man, Mother," Shaun said with a smile. "I'm a scientist. I have to be open-minded to certain possibilities. We would not even be having this discussion had you not convinced me that something must be done with the synths that want freedom."

"Oh," Nora was stunned to hear.

"They're out there waiting, are they not?" The old man was finally bringing light to the situation. "They're waiting for you to return with the news that they can leave without opposition?"

"Will you let that happen?" She asked with hope, optimism returning to her.

In response to the question, Shaun stood from his chair. "I will help you see them to the Molecular Relay. We will send them to the surface together."

"Bullshit!" Nora exclaimed, crossing her arms. "It can't be that easy to convince you."

"You've left me little choice but to meet your demands," he hard-heartedly responded. "You sit there with a weapon, and as you can see, I am unarmed. You have also amassed a group of synths outside my quarters that will fight under your orders. I know when I am beaten," he judiciously established. "Will you not come with me to give the Gen 3 synths the news that they have won their freedom?"

"And that's it? All I had to do was threaten you with hostile actions, and you step aside?"

"I may appear patient at times, Mother, but I'm actually a grumpy, impatient old-man," he said to her with an impatient frown. "Do you want to help your friends, or not?"

"Okay, okay," she mumbled as she got up from the couch. "I guess, let's go free the synths together, Son."

They both took the elevator—together. It was awkward, Nora thought. She was standing next to her son, peacefully achieving something that she thought she'd have to fight for. Yet, they were both quiet. Nora was getting what she wanted, and Shaun _wasn't_ getting what he wanted. Perhaps she had misjudged him as the selfish, spoiled old-man. Perhaps they had more in common with each other than she had first seen.

The synths were waiting as Shaun and Nora stepped out of the elevator together. They looked surprised to see Shaun alongside her. Z1-14 stepped up to Shaun. "Father, we'd like to leave the Institute. Are you willing to let us?"

"Fascinating," Shaun said in return. He regarded Z1-14 with wonder, before he snapped out of it. "Yes. I will allow any Gen 3 synths who wish to leave the Institute this single nonviolent opportunity to leave. I must admit, I'm disappointed that you do not think the Institute as your home. Because of this… if you choose to leave, you will not be welcome back into the Institute. And I cannot guarantee that you will not be hunted down and terminated."

 _Wait_ , Nora realized. _That's not right. That doesn't give the Gen 3 synths a guaranteed future like I promised._

"You must understand the risks I'm allowing in letting you go," Shaun continued. "I must also ask… please do not have your memories altered. You need to understand what you are, and however much you look human, that you are not human. Believing you are human will only cause distress in whatever future awaits you. Does that make sense to you?" he asked Z1-14, because he was the closest to him.

"I think it does," Z1-14 replied.

"And do you still want to leave with these stipulations hanging over you?" Shaun critically inquired.

"It may sway some of us into staying," Z1-14 spoke for all them. "Those of us who do not fear what future awaits us wish to leave."

"Very well," Shaun sadly accepted.

It turned out that a few of the Gen 3 synths did want to stay after hearing what Father said. Fear was a powerful motivator, Nora knew. And Shaun seemed an expert at using it. Over thirty synths, however, were ready to leave.

"So many," Nora heard Shaun mumble as she stood next to him at the relay station. But he did not go back on his word, and started relaying the synths out of the Institute by groups, under Nora's supervision.

Z1-14 was in the last group to leave. "Are you coming with us?" he asked Nora before he entered the relay pad.

"Me?" Nora replied, taken aback.

"Have you decided the Institute will be your home?" Z1-14 curiously asked.

Shaun was encouragingly smiling as he observed Nora's response. "I… I think so," she proclaimed. After she'd said it, she understood how true it was. Nora was going to die in the Institute. She'd chosen to die in the Institute. Didn't that make it her home and final resting place?

"Then this is farewell, human Nora," Z1-14 said, extending a hand. "Among humans, it's customary to shake hands at greetings and farewells, is it not?"

This got a smile out of Nora. "I thought that was a lost custom after the bombs went off," she stated. She then took his hand and shook it with enthusiasm. "Good luck, out there, Z1. I'm sorry I couldn't help any of you secure a better future."

"You've given us hope," he said back with a smile, and pushed something in his hand into Nora's fingers. "Hope will carry us through the future. I hope it does the same for you."

"So it will." Nora's smile flowered into a grin as she realized he was giving back Codsworth chip. "Farewell, Z1-14."

Z1-14 joined his brothers and sisters on the relay pad, and ten seconds later, they were gone in a flash of light. They had made it. Maybe not all of them. But the ones that wanted to leave, they got their freedom.

Nora turned to Shaun and smiled at him with a worn out, feverish gaze. Then she closed her eyes and felt a burden come off her chest.

That's when the molecular relay went off again, but this time it brought someone into the Institute. X6-88 stepped out of the relay and stood at attention as he stared at Shaun.

Shaun looked up at the Courser and simply asked, "Doctor Ayo?"

"He was safely relayed into the SRB Department minutes ago," X6-88 obediently replied.

"Good. We just finished up here," Shaun said back, and Nora's smile instantly evaporated.

"X6," she whispered his name. "You… " She confronted Shaun, instead. "This was all planned? Did I just go along with some sinister plot of yours?"

"It's not a sinister plot," a female voice said behind them. Nora turned and saw all the Department Heads standing there, Justin Ayo included. Allie Filmore was the one who had spoken, and with Nora's attention she now added, "A synth uprising was inevitable. We had hoped it wouldn't happen until after we'd dealt with the Brotherhood of Steel, but when you failed to eliminate the Railroad, we knew we had to switch priorities. We had to come up with a temporary solution to the number of synths gaining sentience."

Clayton then said, "We made the decision to release the sentient Gen 3 synths to the surface. We will observe their movements and see how well they integrate into the world above."

Ayo had to add, "We are tracking every single one, don't you doubt that. As long as they don't receive a memory wipe, it will be easy to keep track of them."

"I've been played," Nora gasped, feeling dizzy. "And betrayed," she said, briefly looking at X6-88. She grabbed at her heart which suddenly felt like it was being pinched. Needles of pain went through Nora's body, and she uncontrollably collapsed in front of everyone. She didn't black out, but she was seeing specks in her eyes.

Dr. Volkert appeared at her side and told Shaun, "If we're going to save her life. We have to act quickly."

"Yes, of course," Shaun gruffly uttered. "Do what you must."

* * *

 **AN:** If you're wondering why I chose to make the synths _"immortal"_ in my story—as in they can't age or die of most natural causes—it's because in the game I was wandering the Institute (like one does) and I stumbled on a bit of dialogue between someone named Janet Thompson (I think) and her husband (Can't remember his name). Janet expresses how she feels bad about the life they've given the synth boy Shaun. Because he can never grow up and he's stuck as a child. I took this as meaning that none of the synths could age. But that was exclusively my interpretation, and not necessarily canon. Because I don't think it ever officially says that synths cannot age. They give us so little information on these kinds of details in Fallout 4. Anyway, hope you liked the extra long chapter.


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